Wheel of Fortune
by Gemini Artemis
Summary: Lovino-centric human AU set in 18th century Italy. Lovino hates his life, until an arranged marriage presents an opportunity for change. Whether it is for the better or for the worse, however, remains to be seen.
1. Good Omens

**Warnings**: swearing; mild, non-graphic sexual situations; corporal punishment on children; character death; anachronisms and inaccuracies in general (some of which are intentional).

**A/N**: Please heed the warnings before deciding to read the fic. This is my NaNoWriMo project for this year and I haven't edited it too much. It is also rather self-indulgent. So, to be quite honest, this story might not be to your tastes.

The story is divided into two arcs and will feature a couple of unusual pairings as well as some OCs. Updates will be very frequent, since the first arc is all done. I took the liberty of changing Ivan's name, because as inaccurate as this story may be, Russian nobles living in Italy just seemed to be pushing it too far, I think. My apologies for the lack of originality with the non-canon names.

If you have an open mind, go ahead and, hopefully, enjoy...

* * *

_**Dramatis Personae**_

Lovino Vargas (South Italy)

Feliciano Vargas (North Italy)

Romeo Vargas (Roman Empire)

Roderich Edelstein (Austria)

Antonio Carriedo (Spain)

Isabella "Bella" Giannini (Belgium)

Giovanni Russo (Russia)

Natalia Russo (Belarus)

Ludwig (Germany)

Father Vinicius (Vatican OC)

Valentina (secret OC)

Mr. Gianturco, aka Il Sadico (Turkey)

Francis Bonnefoy (France)

Gilbert Beilschmidt (Prussia)

Elisabetta Magherini (Hungary)

Caterina Russo (Ukraine)

Torri (Lithuania)

Eduardo (Estonia)

Alfredo (America)

* * *

_**Prologue**_

As far as Lovino could remember, he had always lived in the shadow of his twin brother, Feliciano. Everyone always liked Feliciano better, even their own grandfather. With good reason, of course. Little Feliciano had always been better than him at absolutely everything; he was sweet, polite, kind, helpful, cute, honest, obedient, healthy, cheerful... the list went on and on. People just couldn't help but love him. Even his absurd naïvety was seen as an endearing trait, perhaps because it was associated with innocence.

Furthermore, he also had a gift for the arts, especially painting. Their Grandpa Romeo, a very talented artist himself, had insisted on teaching both his grandsons about art and how to paint since they had been mere toddlers. Even at such a young age, Feliciano could paint the most beautiful paintings with apparently no effort. Even the adults were impressed by the way his tiny hand seemed to glide back and forth over the canvas and produce images that were not only astoundingly detailed, but that also seemed to have a light all of their own. It wasn't just techniques that pretty much anyone could learn; Feliciano could really give life and emotion to his paintings. Grandpa had always been so proud of him for that...

So proud, in fact, that it had become all too easy to forget about Lovino. One would think that the similarities between twin brothers would go beyond outward appearances, but these two disproved that theory. Lovino loved art as much as his brother and his grandfather, and he had put his sincerest efforts into learning those painting techniques, but no matter how well he did, even for someone his age, he just couldn't paint as well as Feliciano. At first he had been proud of his attempts and wanted to show them to his grandfather, but one look at Feliciano's work would crush his eagerness into pieces and urge him to hide his own work before it could be seen and compared to his brother's.

"Keep practising, Lovino, and someday you'll do as well as your brother," his grandfather would often tell him, supposedly trying to be encouraging, but the light chuckle that followed that statement made it clear that he didn't believe his own words. And that possibly hurt Lovino more than if his grandfather had told him the truth straight out.

It wasn't just about the paintings. It was painfully obvious that Grandpa favoured Feliciano. They always spent their time together, often going out for a stroll into the town and leaving Lovino behind, and Romeo always took Feliciano's side whenever the two brothers fought each other. He was constantly hugging, kissing, and praising Feliciano, but acted much more reserved towards Lovino.

Maybe he wouldn't have cared so much about his grandfather's opinion if only he had any other close relative for him to look up to. Unfortunately, their father had died a few months before they were born, and their mother had died during childbirth. Romeo was the only family they had left – and even that didn't last for very long. He was already old, getting progressively weaker, and couldn't afford to sustain two children when he could barely sustain himself. So, he dropped Lovino off at the orphanage.

Only Lovino.

"There is nothing else I can do for you, Lovino," Romeo had explained to him in a tired, sad tone of voice. "I'm too old and feeble. I can't take care of you the way you need any more."

"What about Feliciano?" Lovino had yelled, close to hysterics. Never in his short life had he felt so abandoned. It was one thing to go out for a stroll with one brother and leave the other behind for an hour, but drop him off at an orphanage and keep the other? That was going too far. "He can't do a single thing on his own!"

"Feliciano is different. Besides, there are still things I have to teach him."

"I hate you!" Lovino had snapped. "I don't want to see you ever again! You can go to hell for all I care, you old bastard!"

Although Lovino could never quite bring himself to forgive his grandfather, he did regret that those were his last words to him. As wronged as he felt, he knew he tended to say very hurtful things that he didn't really mean when he was upset. Despite everything, he had dearly loved his grandfather. He hadn't wanted Romeo to die believing he was hated by his own grandson. Alas, just as Feliciano had a talent for art, Lovino had a talent for messing up.

Eventually, Grandpa Romeo passed away and Feliciano joined him in the orphanage. It wasn't long before Feliciano was adopted. Who wouldn't want to adopt such an adorable child, after all? Lovino was adopted by the same person, a nobleman by the name of Roderich Edelstein, mostly because Feliciano had begged him not to separate the two brothers. However, Lord Edelstein found Lovino such a troublesome child that he quickly returned him to the orphanage. He still allowed the twins to visit each other regularly, until one day he moved away, taking Feliciano with him.

Lovino had felt relieved and believed things would finally get better for him without his brother there to emphasise how inadequate Lovino was.

He had been wrong.

It is said that things have to get worse before they get better, and Lovino firmly believed this applied to his life. On top of having to deal with the loss of his grandfather and bullying from other children, he also fell ill with all sorts of diseases, from pneumonia to the falling sickness, one of which stuck with him into his adulthood, though it got better later on. Such was his luck. This was surely God's way of punishing him for some reason... or several reasons, really – Lovino just couldn't help himself.

So, thanks to his poor health, total lack of ability for anything remotely useful, and less than charming personality, no one else ever tried to adopt him, and as soon as he came of age, he was taken in by the local church as a novice. To this day, he marvelled at how he hadn't been driven insane.

As it was, things did get better eventually. His voice shaped up along with the rest of his body and developed a very melodic tenor quality. Even those who couldn't stand his person had to stare in awe whenever he sang in the church choir. The same admiring look that Feliciano's paintings had always got were now directed at Lovino's singing performances. He was a bit shy from all the attention at first, but he thought he could quickly get used to it.

He could only hope things would get better and better from here.

* * *

– **CHAPTER 1 –**

_**Good Omens**_

Once the last notes echoed into silence, the nuns and even fellow choir singers burst into enthusiastic applause. Lovino's face flushed with happiness and a touch of embarrassment. Was he really that good? Had he finally found his true talent?

"Lovino, that was amazing," sighed one of the nuns as a couple of them approached him.

"You are too kind, Sister Maddalena," he said, inclining his head modestly.

"It's true," said the other nun, Sister Maria. "That was your best performance yet."

"It was just a rehearsal, though... I still need to practise more."

"I'm sure your next performance will be outstanding, then," said Sister Maddalena. "I always knew you would grow to be a great singer. Oh, Sister, remember when he and his brother sang in the child's choir?"

"How could I not? Feliciano had the voice of a little angel."

"Indeed! If Lovino has such a beautiful voice now, just imagine what Feliciano's voice must be like."

"Truly divine!"

Lovino was glad that neither of the nuns were looking at him, or they would have been alarmed by the angry twitch in his eye and gritting of teeth. Why did it always come to this? He supposed he should be used to it by now, but they could have at least _waited_ until he was out of sight before bringing his brother up and elevating him above Lovino yet again.

He mumbled a quick excuse and parted from the old nuns as fast as possible without raising suspicion or seeming rude. He came to a stop in a deserted hallway and just stood there for a moment, shaking and seething. He was so angry, so sick of being always compared to his brother, his brother whom no one in this town had seen in nearly fifteen years and might not even be alive any more for all they knew. He had thought these comparisons would end after Feliciano left, but his brother kept haunting him even after all these years.

Frustrating, so frustrating. He just wanted to hit something. In the past he might have punched the wall, but that tended to hurt his hand, and it just wasn't as satisfying as hitting a real person. If only some idiot would come this way, then he could—

"Hey, Lovino, what are—"

Screaming bloody murder and a vile curse or two, Lovino gave the convenient idiot a satisfyingly sound punch in the face, knocking him off his feet. Breathing heavily, he felt much better for a second, before realising what he had just done. Again. He had lost his temper and taken it out on an innocent passer-by. Never mind that the victim was Antonio, his best and practically only friend. If anyone found out, and someone certainly would, Lovino could kiss his glorious solo performance in the choir goodbye.

"Ow..." moaned the young man at his feet.

"Antonio, you're such a fucking idiot!" Lovino snapped. He had actually meant to apologise, or at least ask if his friend was all right, but insults just tended to come out of his mouth as naturally as air came out of his lungs when he breathed. "I mean, what were you standing there for?" He was shaking again, expect this time it wasn't so much out of anger as out of dread. He could already hear hurried steps coming their way.

"I was looking for you," replied Antonio as he got up on his feet and gingerly touched his split lip.

Before Lovino could get another word out, Sister Maddalena and Sister Maria had rounded the corner and gasped loudly.

"Antonio! Lovino! What just happened here?" Sister Maria demanded to know. Her formerly amicable disposition was gone and she gave Lovino a stern glare, as if she already knew who was to blame for Antonio's condition. Lovino flushed, not knowing what to say.

"It's okay, Sister," said Antonio. "It was my fault. I tripped."

Lovino covered his face; it was painful to watch Antonio trying to come up with excuses. He was just so bad at it!

"You tripped," repeated Sister Maria in a deadpan. "And you landed on your face?"

Antonio laughed easily. "It was an awkward fall. I'm so clumsy!"

"We heard Lovino scream," Sister Maddalena pointed out, throwing Lovino a suspicious glance.

"I hit him from behind; he was surprised. That's all," reassured Antonio. "Really, it's okay. It doesn't even hurt. Are you okay, Lovino? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Startled at being addressed all of a sudden, all Lovino could manage was a stiff shake of the head.

"See? No harm done!" concluded Antonio, with a handsome grin that was only marred by the swelling in the corner of his lips.

It still took a few more minutes of insistent reassurances from Antonio until the nuns finally relented and left, although they still didn't look completely convinced that he told the truth. Lovino couldn't blame them; he had often been the culprit of attacks on fellow novices, for the most varied reasons – all of which were perfectly justified in Lovino's opinion – and Antonio, being his best friend and too nice for his own good, would never tattle on him.

Well, no matter what the nuns thought. As long as Antonio claimed that Lovino was innocent and no one could prove otherwise, Lovino was safe. For now. He wanted to thank Antonio for covering up for him, but once again the apologies were shoved back by an insult and a light punch on the shoulder.

"B-bastard! What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"I told you, I was looking for you!" answered Antonio, rubbing his shoulder. "I just finished my work for today, so I thought we could hang out a little before dinner time." He didn't seem to expect an apology or a word of thanks. In all likelihood, he was already so used to Lovino's physical and verbal abuse that he didn't even notice it any more.

Antonio... In many ways, Antonio was very similar to Feliciano. He was also friendly towards absolutely everybody, virtually impossible to anger, and an eternal optimist. He was also dumber than a rock, or so Lovino thought. He wasn't good with intellectual subjects or most forms of art. Rather, his strength lay in his muscles. Not that he was a brawny man. He was actually quite slender, but thanks to his work on the plantations and carrying heavy objects around the monastery, he had developed finely toned muscles.

Lovino had known Antonio since his first day at the orphanage. Antonio had achieved the feat of befriending Lovino, despite the latter's attempts to push him away. He was that kind of person, as if he just couldn't bear the thought that there was someone on this Earth who did not want to be his friend. Before Lovino knew it, he had grown rather attached to Antonio. The boy, a few years older than him, had protected him from bullies and faithfully stuck with him even Lovino had been at his lowest. Several times had Antonio been offered an adoption, but he had always refused because he didn't want to abandon Lovino. Even now, when he could have easily got his own farm to lead an independent life, Antonio remained in the monastery, spending most of his days working at the plantation to feed the order. He was the big brother Lovino had never had, though, of course, he would never admit that out loud to anyone.

"So, what got you in such a bad mood today?" Antonio asked as they exited the premises of the monastery.

"None of your damn business," Lovino snarled.

"Ah," Antonio nodded knowingly, "it's your brother again, right?" He raised his face upwards, a blissful, rather stupid expression on his face as he enjoyed the heat of the sun and hummed. "I wonder how he's doing... We haven't seen in years! I bet he's become a great painter—oof!" he broke off suddenly and held his side, which had just met a very sharp elbow. "What was that for?" he whined.

"You're not helping at all!" Lovino snapped. "Really, why can't you people stop talking about that idiot? I bet he doesn't even remember you any more!"

"I'm sure he remembers _you_, at least," said Antonio cheerfully, though he was still rubbing his sore side. "And we talk about him because we miss him. Come on, Lovino, can you honestly say you don't miss him at all? Your own brother?"

"I don't. I'm glad he's gone. If I never see him again, it'll be too soon! Except I do see him every day, don't I?" the last sentence was muttered more to himself than to Antonio. "Every time I look in the fucking mirror, I see him. It's like I'm being haunted by a goddamn doppelgänger."

Antonio laughed lightly. "I wish I had a twin brother. It sounds like so much fun."

Lovino shook his head and said nothing else. Sometimes, it was impossible to dialogue with Antonio. The idiot probably couldn't understand half the words Lovino said, and he seemed to live in a world of his own. Lovino would feel much better if Antonio had meant statements like the above in a sarcastic manner, but he had already established that sarcasm was an alien concept to Antonio. He could not recognise it if it hit him in the face, let alone use it himself.

They went the rest of the way in silence, which served well to cool down Lovino's temper. Monterosso was quite a small town – most outsiders wouldn't even give it the dignity of being called a town, actually; it was more like a large village. Nevertheless, it was a charming town when the weather was good. When the weather was bad, the town looked rather gloomy and desolate, for some reason. The sky would look dull, the earth dark and infertile, the trees lifeless and withered, the inhabitants cheerless and sluggish. But when the weather was good, like today, the town bloomed with life and bright colours, and everyone went outside to enjoy it.

Lovino liked that. He liked crowds. Or rather, he disliked crowds – he was more of a loner – but crowds could be very convenient, as well.

He bumped into a middle-aged man.

"Oh, Lord! I'm so sorry, sir," he apologised.

The man smiled at him, "No harm done!" and went on his way.

Lovino smirked and slipped his hands into the long, loose sleeves of his habit.

"I saw that," said Antonio.

"Saw what?"

"You pickpocketed that man."

"What? No, I didn't!"

"You did. I was paying attention this time."

Lovino brought his hands out again and displayed them, palms open, to prove that they were empty. "You know I'm not good with my hands. How could I pickpocket anyone?"

"Lovino, you know stealing is wrong. Now, please, give the money back to that man."

"I would... if I'd got his money. But I didn't. Because I didn't pickpocket anyone!"

"I know what I saw. It's not like this is the first time, anyway."

"You're crazy! I can't believe my own friend won't believe me. I really am alone in this world."

"You know, I bet that's why God cursed you with the falling sickness! Because you keep stealing and lying!"

Lovino felt his face heat up and hurried his pace so that Antonio couldn't see his face. "Sh-shut up! I've told you a million times not to talk about it in public! And that has nothing to do with stealing, because I haven't had an attack in almost a year."

"Oh." Antonio was silent for a minute, his forehead wrinkled in deep thought. "So, what you're saying is that you have stolen often in the last months?"

"Ye—No—That's a trick question, bastard!" Antonio was dumber than a rock, yes, but from time to time he would get these flashes of insight. Unfortunately, this was the most inconvenient time for him to get smart. Well, Lovino would just ignore him until he either dropped the subject or went back to being his stupid self.

"Oh! It's Bella!" whispered Antonio breathlessly, effectively dropping the former subject just as Lovino had expected. Raising his voice, Antonio waved and shouted, "Bella! Hello! Good afternoon!"

"Antonio! Lovino! Good afternoon!" replied the girl. Isabella, or Bella for short, was another childhood friend – or perhaps more like an acquaintance and occasional playmate. She lived with her grandmother in a humble house, a sweet, pretty girl whose personality matched Antonio's to a T. As it so happened, Antonio had a crush on her, though Lovino had the sneaking suspicion that she had a crush on _him_. He tried not to think too much about it.

"Lovino, I was just thinking about you," said Bella once she approached the duo. Her eyes never left Lovino's face, which was the only reason why she didn't seem to notice that Antonio was openly staring at her in a dreamy way, like a fool. "You just finished your rehearsal, right? So, is it true that you're going to perform a solo on the next choir?"

"Yes, I practised my solo today, actually," Lovino answered, allowing his features to soften into a gentle smile. He could never bring himself to scowl at such a pretty lady.

"I look forward to seeing you on your next public performance, then. I'm sure you'll do great!"

"Thank you."

"Well, I have to go now. I'm running a few errands for Grandma. See you," she waved him goodbye, a little flustered. "You, too, Antonio."

"Bye, Bella..." sighed Antonio. Lovino mentally gagged. Could Antonio look any more like a pathetic, love-struck puppy?

He gave Antonio another light punch on the shoulder, hoping it would be enough to knock some sense into him.

"Let's go, stupid."

"Do you think she likes me?"

Lovino almost wished Antonio would go back to his short-lived moment of intelligence.

xxx

This time, Antonio didn't drop the subject, and he kept talking about Bella the rest of the day, until they were both in their shared room at the dormitory in the monastery, getting ready to sleep.

"But _do_ you think she likes me? Seriously?"

Lovino let out a heavy sigh and rolled on his bed so that his back was turned to Antonio, pulling the pillow over his head.

"I said, I don't know! Anyway, there's only one way to know for sure, right? Now shut the fuck up and let me sleep, dammit!"

"I wish I knew for sure..."

"Then just tell her how you feel the next time you see her. Will you shut up now? And put out that damn light! I'm trying to sleep here!"

"What if she doesn't like me?"

"If don't shut up right now, I swear I'm going to smother you with you pillow! I mean it!"

"Okay, okay, sorry!"

There was silence, except for the sound of rustling paper. Antonio had yet to put out the light, but at least he was quiet now. As long as he continued that way, Lovino could get some rest.

"Hey, Lovino," said Antonio after about ten minutes. Lovino groaned.

"What?" the word was drawled out like the snarl of a beast, ready to pounce on its victim and rip its guts out. As usual, though, the hidden threat went right over Antonio's thick head.

"I was just looking at this calendar, see, and guess what day it is tomorrow!"

"Not your birthday, is it?"

"No, of course not!"

"Bella's birthday?"

"Nope."

"... My birthday?"

"No, silly! It's not a birthday. Tomorrow, it'll be a whole year since your last fit."

Lovino was taken aback. Of all things he had expected to hear, that had never even occurred to him. He turned around so he was facing Antonio again.

"You actually keep track of that?"

"Of course I do," said Antonio, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His eyes were still on the calendar. "One year... There was a time when you used to have one every week, remember? And now it's been a whole year... D'you know what I think this means?"

"Hm?"

"I think this means that maybe you're finally cured!" Antonio grinned at him.

Lovino turned his gaze down, fiddling with the edge of his bed sheet nervously. "That'd be nice... And... you're probably right." He hadn't wanted to get his hopes up about it, but right now, he couldn't help the hopeful feeling blossoming in his chest. One year... He hadn't even noticed how time had flown by, but now that it had been pointed out to him, it really was a long time.

"I told you things would get better sooner or later," said Antonio, his tone warm and brotherly. "You'll see, tomorrow will be an even better day for you." He put away the calendar, wished him good night, and finally put out the light. However, Lovino didn't go to sleep right away. He fumbled for his rosary and whispered prayers of gratitude.

* * *

**A/N**: In case you're wondering, "falling sickness" is an archaic term for epilepsy. It is my head-canon that earthquakes translate into Hetalia as seizures. Southern Italy has a lot of earthquakes, so...


	2. A Proposal

– **CHAPTER 2 –**

_**A Proposal**_

Lovino's routine as a novice was mostly dull. He would rise before the sun every day, despite having fallen asleep so late thanks to a combination of insomnia and a noisy Antonio, then he would meditate, pray, pray a little more, have breakfast, do his chores, study, pray, have lunch, have a few hours to do what he wanted, then pray, meditate, have dinner, pray, and then he would go to bed. The only thing that saved his days and his sanity were those few hours for himself after lunch. Some days he would have a siesta and recover those sleepless hours from the previous night; some other days, if he were feeling up to it, he would sneak out into the town and flirt with the girls or try to get some money.

However, there were some chores that he actually enjoyed, such as, for example, collecting donations from the church-goers.

"Good morning, Miss Guccini," he said in his smoothest voice and with his perfected gentlemanly smile. "You look particularly lovely today. If I may be so bold, that new dress really suits you."

Miss Guccini, a young lady about Lovino's age, giggled a little, pink spots colouring her cheeks. She had obviously been hoping he would notice that she was wearing a new dress.

"Good morning to you, too, Lovino. I'm glad you like it, thank you. Oh, and what have I told you? You can call me Andrea."

"If you insist, Andrea."

Now her face was bright red.

"I heard from Bella that you're going to perform a solo," she said, trying not to stammer. "I look forward to it."

"I would be immensely flattered if you came to watch the choir. Your presence would be very inspiring to me."

Andrea swooned. Really, Lovino didn't even have to try too hard these days to get that kind of reaction. Before she could do something silly like faint, Lovino raised the small wooden box in his hands and asked for donations. A little flustered, Andrea fumbled with her thin money bag and took a few coins to drop them into the box. Then, noticing Lovino's forlorn expression, she thought better of it and just dropped the entire contents of her bag.

"God bless you, Andrea," said Lovino with all the gratitude he could muster. She grinned back, delighted that she had made him smile again.

As she left to join the mass, Lovino had to congratulate himself. No lady could resist being a little more generous than usual in their donations when it was Lovino who asked them.

His triumphant smile vanished instantly when a large, calloused hand dropped a single small coin into the box. Lovino sneered down at it.

"That's it? Either give a proper donation or go to hell, you cheap bastard!"

The man addressed could only sputter in shock. Lovino gave him a disapproving look.

"May God have mercy on your greedy soul," he said, solemn.

Stammering out an apology, the man hurriedly added a few more coins before scurrying out of Lovino's sight.

It looked like everyone was present for the mass. Making sure no one was watching him, Lovino opened the lid of the box – it didn't have a lock, and even if it did, Lovino could have easily picked it – and pocketed about half of the money.

Indeed, collecting donations was one of his favourite chores. Not only did it give him the chance to flirt with the girls, it also gave him the opportunity for some profit. Even though he would take half the money from the box, it would still end up heavier than if the collector had been anyone else. Thanks to his charisma among the women and aggressive pressure on the men, Lovino could collect that much money. So, really, half the money was really given to _him_; it was rightfully his.

His job done, Lovino put away the donation box and went over to the organ. Everyone was still settling down and getting ready for the mass to begin, and the organ player had yet to arrive. Unnoticed, Lovino took a seat before it, stretched his fingers, and began to play the notes he had been rehearsing whenever he had had the opportunity. Deep, loud notes that started abruptly, lingered in agony and trailed off ominously, resulting in powerful music that struck deep into everyone's hearts. Lovino didn't even need to look at those people to know they had jumped at the unexpected sound of the first notes and had grown considerably pale as the music went on. He had carefully composed this melody so that it was the musical equivalent of Doomsday.

A warm, wrinkled hand landed heavily on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly, effectively cutting the organ music short. Lovino turned his head and looked up at the neutral face of Father Vinicius.

"Son. What are you doing?"

"Playing the organ," answered Lovino, but even he had to squirm a little under that cool, piercing gaze. He cleared his throat and added, "The player is late, so I was filling in for him."

"Very thoughtful of you," said Father Vinicius, his tone still painfully level. "However, it is not yet time for the organ music, nor is that the tune you were supposed to play. Also, you are frightening everyone."

"That was the point, Father!"

"Oh?"

"Yes! I wanted to make it sound just like Judgement Day. To put the fear of God into them and make them pray with more feeling in the mass. So, you see, I was just trying to help."

Father Vinicius just stared at him for a moment, his deadpan expression never changing. Then, with all the kind of patience normally attributed to saints, he replied, "I appreciate that you are dedicating yourself so much to saving everyone's souls, but at this rate you are going to send them to early graves. I think old Mrs. Puccelli almost had a heart attack."

"I am so deeply sorry, Father," said Lovino, but it didn't come out nearly as apologetic as he had planned.

Neither man said anything else for another minute, and Lovino began to feel uncomfortable again when Father Vinicius' stare went on for longer than usual. Lovino had always been a bit of a troublemaker, and Father Vinicius had put up with it with unyielding patience for years. Was this the last straw? Was this prolonged silence due to him thinking of some harsh punishment to dish out? Maybe he had finally decided to give in to Sister Benedetta's suggestion that it was necessary to beat discipline into him?

"My son..." Father Vinicius began, startling Lovino.

"What? I-I mean, y-yes, Father?"

"I want to have a serious talk with you when the mass is over." With that, he left to begin the now delayed mass.

Even though he was free from the pressure of that stern gaze, Lovino didn't feel relieved at all.

oOo

"F-Father... you wished to talk to me?"

He had put this meeting off for as long as possible. He knew he was in trouble and that whatever Father Vinicius had in mind for him was not going to be pleasant, whether it was a light scolding or a bloody beating a la Sister Benedetta. There was no need for anyone else to witness his humiliation. The church was now empty, save for the both of them, so he was finally able to work up the courage to approach the old priest.

"Indeed, but I distinctly remember telling you to meet me once the the mass was over, not hours after it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt you when you were talking to the people..."

"You are lying," Father Vinicius sighed, giving him the saddest look Lovino had ever seen on his tired, wrinkled face. "You took your time because you were scared. Why are you scared of me, my son? I am not going to hurt you. I never did and I never will."

Well, that was mildly reassuring, at least. Lovino relaxed just a little, but still couldn't quite meet the older man's eyes. Father Vinicius was the only one who could still make him feel like a little child.

"Come with me," ordered Father Vinicius, who then led him to his study and offered him a seat. Then, he resumed his silent staring.

This was too much. By now, Lovino had decided that no punishment Father Vinicius might come up with could be any worse than this. He wished the old man would just get it over with already and put him out of his misery. Come to think of it, maybe _this _was his punishment; maybe the plan was to torture him with anticipation.

"Let's be perfectly honest," said Father Vinicius all of a sudden. On second thought, maybe his plan was to give Lovino a heart attack; that would be an ironically appropriate punishment after Lovino scared the townspeople half to death with his music. "You don't really want to follow this path, do you?"

Lovino had to answer to that, since he wasn't sure what Father Vinicius was trying to imply.

"You curse, you lie, you are rude, you attack your brothers, you look at young ladies in inappropriate ways, you steal..."

_Oh._ Lovino flushed and lowered his gaze to his shaking hands. "I know I'm... impulsive, but... I always regret it later and – and I pray for forgiveness every day..."

"Can you honestly say you would make a good priest?"

The answer was so obvious that Lovino didn't deem it necessary to say anything. He just kept fidgeting, growing increasingly anxious. Were they kicking him out? That had to be it. Dear God above, what was he going to do? Even if he were allowed to keep the money he had collected, it wasn't enough to fend for himself, not even close. He had nowhere to stay, no one to help him, no way to make money, he would have to either spend the rest of his life begging for money on the streets or rob people and become a common thief and—

"So, I was wondering if you would be interested in leaving the monastery to start a new life as a nobleman."

Lovino let those words repeat themselves over and over in his head to see if they would make any more sense. They didn't.

"Count Russo recently told me that his youngest daughter is to inherit some of his lands near Monterosso," Father Vinicius began to explain.

Count Russo... Lovino was certain he had heard this name at some point, but he didn't know much else about that count. The man was a bit of a mystery; he owned lands somewhere near Monterosso – if memory served Lovino right – but he seemed to spend most of his time away or in reclusion, possibly both simultaneously. It was too easy to forget that he existed at all. Lovino hadn't even known that the count had children.

"However," continued Father Vinicius, with a sharp edge in his tone so as to catch Lovino's wandering attention back, "she can only inherit his land if she gets married. The count has been looking for a suitor, and when I told him about you, he was very interested."

If Lovino had been drinking anything, he was sure Father Vinicius would be sopping wet and wearing a very displeased expression right now.

"What? Me? What—What the—What did you tell him?" _What lies did you tell him?_ was the real question going through his mind, but it probably wasn't a good idea to accuse a priest of being a liar. Lovino was fully aware of his own flaws, and as he had just found out, Father Vinicius was just as aware of them.

As if reading his mind – which he probably could do, the creepy old bastard, how else would he have found out about the donation box? – Father Vinicius graced him with a slightly lopsided smile and answered in his most pious voice, "I told him the truth; that you are a bachelor from a noble, powerful family."

With a groan, Lovino his his face, heated by humiliation, behind his hands. "My family is neither noble nor powerful. Not any more. Maybe it was sixty years ago, before my _dear_ grandfather brought it to ruins," he spat bitterly. "Did you tell him that little detail, or did it _conveniently_ escaped your mind, Father?"

Father Vinicius didn't even blink. "Actually, the count already knew of your family's history. He knew that your family lost most of its fortune—"

"All of it," muttered Lovino.

"—but he reassured me that that wouldn't be a problem. The fact that you have noble blood alone would have been more than enough, and he seemed to think that it was even more fortunate of him to find a descendant of Lord Romeo Vargas."

Lovino just stared at the priest as suspicion joined disbelief. He knew his grandfather had been famous and widely admired in his younger days, but that had been _ages_ ago. Surely the name of his family no longer held any importance whatsoever? Either Count Russo was a desperate man, or there was some sort of horrible catch. Neither scenario sounded very appealing.

"Incidentally," said Father Vinicius, once again startling Lovino out of his panicky thoughts, "I have had the pleasure of meeting the count's daughter. A very lovely, demure young lady. She looks forward to meeting you."

"Father Vinicius..." Lovino hesitated and tried to sound as reasonable as possible, "This is so sudden. I don't know—"

"Why are you so wary, my son? Don't you see? This is the perfect opportunity." Father Vinicius stood up from his chair and slowly, deliberately walked around his desk as he spoke, until he was standing right behind Lovino. He rested a warm, fatherly hand on Lovino's shoulder. "I know you yearn for it, Lovino. Freedom... Independence... You are a devout man deep down, but life in the monastery is stifling you. That is why you lash out at those around you, isn't it? Just think about it. If you marry the count's daughter, you will regain the noble status and wealth that your family lost a long time ago, and you will be free to follow your own path."

There was something about Father Vinicius' words that didn't sit quite right, but Lovino just couldn't put his finger on it. The more he thought them over, however, the truer they sounded. He also felt a little touched that someone finally had a theory about his behaviour that didn't paint him as the bad guy. Everyone was always so quick to judge and condemn him, regardless of whether he deserved it or not, but Father Vinicius actually had faith in him.

He also thought about what his new life as the count's daughter's husband would be like. Indeed, he would be free from the monastery – no more boring duties, no more rigid schedule, no more idiotic novices, no more oppressive nuns, no more stealing. He would be filthy rich and never again have to lift a finger to work, for he would have dozens of servants to do all the work for him. He would be able to sleep as long as he wanted and indulge in his hobbies all day long. He could wear some nice clothes for once in his life and every meal would be a heavenly banquet. He would have his own luxurious manor and could come and go as he pleased, without having to ask for permission to leave or sneak out. It was everything he had always dreamt of!

It was also almost too good to be true, and he still suspected there had to be some kind of catch, but at this point, he didn't really care. If there even was a catch, how bad could it be? Life as a nobleman was life as a nobleman no matter what, and it had to be worth anything else.

"Well, Father, if you say so..." he said, barely able to hold back a grin, "I humbly accept—"

"Excellent!" replied Father Vinicius, a little too quickly. There was an almost desperate edge in his tone to match the odd glint in his eyes as he coaxed Lovino off of his chair and out of his study. "_Excellent_, son! I knew you would make the right choice. I must contact Count Russo right away so we can all start the preparations for the wedding as soon as possible. Congratulations! Oh, you must be eager to tell your friends about these wonderful news, so you had better hurry up before it is time for lunch. See you later, son, and God bless you!"

"I—"

Lovino didn't have the chance to get another syllable out, as the door slammed shut on his face. He still stood there for a moment, too nonplussed to even move. Then, hesitantly and throwing glances back at the door, he went off in search of Antonio. He had never seen the normally collected priest acting so fervently or speaking so fast. If Lovino hadn't known better, he would have thought that Father Vinicius had been anxious to make him leave.

Wait. That was it, wasn't it? "Start the preparations for the wedding as soon as possible," indeed. He, like any other resident of this damned monastery, just couldn't wait to get rid of the burden that was Lovino. No wonder he had been so adamant on convincing Lovino that this arranged marriage was a good idea. That manipulative old bastard.

Lovino supposed he shouldn't blame them; he had, after all, always made their life more difficult, both deliberately and inadvertently. If he were in their shoes, he would feel the same resentment. And yet... he couldn't help the sting in his chest at the thought that he had become so abhorrent that even Father Vinicius – a stern but ultimately kind figure, or so Lovino had always thought – was so eager to get rid of him. Father Vinicius, who had always looked after him in his moments of need and taken care of him when he had been ill, and who had become the closest thing to a father figure to him after his grandfather's death, actually despised him, as much as everyone else.

Whatever. Father Vinicius could go to hell for all Lovino cared. As soon as he married Count Russo's daughter, he wouldn't need him or anyone else in this godforsaken town. He would be better off without them! No matter how ill his intentions were, Father Vinicius still had done him a great favour by recommending him as a suitor. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion, and he was damn well going to rejoice rather than allow these hateful people to ruin it for him!

oOo

Breaking the news to Antonio was the right decision. His friend was very excited about it and congratulated and hugged him exhaustively. That was extremely annoying and embarrassing, of course, and Lovino berated him for being such an overreacting, touchy-feely fool. Inside, though, he felt much better. He was happy not only because his life was taking a turn for the better, after all – and trust Antonio to be an idiot and smugly point out, "I _told_ you things would get better eventually!" – but also because this was someone who actually and sincerely was happy for him, a real friend.

Obviously, Lovino would never acknowledge such a thing out loud. Antonio was annoying enough as it was; no need to make things even soppier.

Despite Father Vinicius' hurry to contact the Russos, they were only able to meet two weeks later, at the manor that the couple would inherit once they were married. The place was so huge that Lovino was sure he would get lost in there in the first weeks unless he carried a map. It was maybe a little too dark for his tastes, but it was clean, comfortable, and the décor was rich and tasteful, as expected from the house of a noble family.

And then, for the first time, Lovino, accompanied by Father Vinicius, met the almost legendary Count Russo.

Giovanni Russo, as he introduced himself, was almost the entire opposite of what Lovino had imagined him to look like. First of all, the man looked much younger than he could possibly be; in fact, his features were reminiscent of a child's, with a round, chubby face and a wide, guileless smile. His face was ghastly pale, yet somehow full of energy – he must be that pale not out of sickness, but due to spending so much time indoors, Lovino assumed. Another characteristic that really struck Lovino as odd was the count's physique; he was tall, very, very tall, probably the tallest man Lovino had ever seen. On top of it, he was obviously strong. Not muscular, exactly, or fat. He was just a really big man overall, the kind of person who, should he fall over Lovino, would flatten him out. If it weren't for his pale complexion, Lovino would have thought that this was a peasant in disguise.

The count spoke in polite yet warm tones, with a gentle, velvety voice that made it so pleasant to listen to him. However, as soon as Lovino locked eyes with him, the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Those dark, icy eyes were entirely at odds with the man's kind features and warm voice. Not that the count was glaring at him – the coldness in his eyes seemed to be inherent to them, no matter what his mood was – but coupled with the man's impressive size, that gaze sent shivers down Lovino's spine.

That had to be his imagination playing tricks on him, though. Count Russo obviously thought that Lovino was an excellent suitor to his daughter, judging by the way he kept looking at him as if he were a godsend.

"Thank God we found you, Mr. Vargas," he said, seeming oddly relieved. "I was beginning to lose hope that I would ever find someone to marry my daughter. All the suitors at my county either refused to marry her or were rejected. She is too attached to me, you see. But I talked to her about it and this time she will consent to the marriage."

Lovino frowned. None of that had sounded quite right to him. "Er, excuse me, Lord, but what is that supposed—"

"Oh! Here she comes!" the count burst out, turning away from his guests. "Come here, my dear, don't be shy!" he let out a light giggle that was entirely inappropriate for a man of his age and status.

A blonde girl, as pale as Count Russo – if not paler – joined the three men. Lovino had begun to think that she was ugly, since her father had been so desperate to find her a suitor, but he could see now that that was not the issue with this girl. She wasn't attractive, definitely not the most beautiful woman in the world, but she wasn't ugly. Perhaps "cute" would have been a more fitting term. With her soft, round features that were obviously inherited from her father and her pretty, frilly dress, she looked rather like a doll. Her eyes were chastely directed at the floor.

_A blonde?_ Lovino thought slightly disappointed. He would have preferred a brunette. She didn't appear to be his type, but at least she wasn't ugly as he had feared and she seemed to be a nice, sweet girl.

"Mr. Vargas, meet my daughter, Natalia. Natalia, this is your new fiancé, Mr. Lovino Vargas."

She held out her hand for him to kiss, but still wouldn't meet his gaze. She really was as shy as Father Vinicius had said, a rather endearing trait.

Lovino took her delicate, gloved hand and kissed it light. "I am charmed to meet such a lovely lady," he said, with the affable smile he reserved only for pretty ladies, even if this one probably couldn't see it when her eyes were still fixed on the floor.

Perhaps sensing how intimidated she felt and how awkward things could become at this rate, Count Russo suggested that the couple go out for a stroll around the manor's garden just by themselves, to get better acquainted with each other. Lovino found it a bit odd when the count shouted, "And behave!" as they left. What did he think, that Lovino couldn't wait until they were married to make advances on the poor girl? That he would even touch someone he had just met?

Outside the manor, Lovino began to look for the garden, but much to his bewilderment, there was no such thing in sight, unless one counted that one fruitless tree and a four feet square field of wilting sunflowers. The rest was dull grass and bare earth. It was a little depressing to watch, actually. This wouldn't do at all. As soon as he inherited this property, he would make sure to grow the most gorgeous and lively garden the Russos had ever seen. He would even take care of some of it himself; after all, gardening had always been one of his little hobbies, even if he wasn't excellent at it.

But never mind the sorry state of the garden, for now. He should try to get this timid young lady out of her shell and talk to him, even if just a little. Hopefully, they would have _something_ in common. She still wasn't looking at him, and her hands were clenching into thin, fragile fists. The poor thing, she was so nervous! Lovino cleared his throat to catch her attention.

"You—"

"I hate you!" hissed the girl sharply. "Don't talk to me!" Her voice was quite deeper than he had expected, and she had finally lifted her gaze to look at him directly in the eyes, which had the colour and the consistency of a frozen lake.

"I-I beg your pardon?" Why was she glaring at him with murder in her eyes? And why had she talked to him like that? He hadn't done anything to her!

"You are no better than my previous suitors," she said quietly, darkly. "Actually, you have got to be the worst. I have no desire whatsoever to marry you, let alone 'get acquainted' with you. I hate it that I have been forced into this ridiculous marriage, I hate it that you are standing between me and my father, and above all I hate _you_! I wish I could just kill you! But... my father told me to behave, so I will have to spare you. For now."

Lovino shuddered. He couldn't tell if Natalia was just being over-dramatic; he wasn't even sure he wanted to know.

"Look, I'm—I'm sorry that you're upset about this arranged marriage, but it's hardly my fault," he tried to reason with her. "This was your father's decision. Actually, this was supposed to help you; if your father hadn't found me, you would never be able to inherit this property." He wanted to ask her if she already had a love interest – after all, what other reason could there be for her to hate him and this arranged marriage before she even got to know him? – but he felt it would be terribly inappropriate to ask such a question.

"That is exactly my problem," said Natalia. "If it weren't for you, there wouldn't be a marriage at all and I could still be living happily with my dear father!"

"Oh, er..." Lovino hesitated as his mind rallied to make sense of what he was hearing. "You don't _want_ his inheritance? You—you want to stay with your father, is that it?"

"Of course! I love my father. I cannot imagine life away from him." Her features softened for a brief moment as she thought of her father, and then she was glaring at him twice as viciously as before. "But he thinks otherwise. He insists that I should get married and live in this—this middle-of-nowhere, far away from him and the rest of my family. If I didn't know better... I would think that he is trying to get rid of me."

At those last words, Lovino found himself empathising with her. After all, weren't they both in the same boat? The only difference between them was that Natalia would get nothing out of this marriage but misery. Unlike Lovino, she couldn't care less about her father's inheritance.

He wanted to comfort her and say he understood how she felt, but before he could even open his mouth, she turned her wrath back on him once again.

"If it weren't for you, I could still convince my father to let me stay with him. But no, you had to show up and ruin everything. Now I'm going to be stuck with a little shit like you for the rest of my life, and it's all your fault! God, I can barely stand to look at your ugly, stupid face. You make me sick."

By now, Lovino was sure that his head was on the brink of combustion. If this were a man he was dealing with, he would have long ago beaten him into an inch of his life for daring to talk to him that way. But this was a lady, the daughter of a count, no less. Never in his life had Lovino been insulted by a lady. Heck, he had never even met a lady whose mouth was so coarse. Yet here he was, taking verbal abuse from a lady when his only crime had been to exist. He was so floored by this surreal experience that he had no idea how to react. He tried to say something, but all he managed to get out were stammered monosyllables.

As if satisfied that Lovino's ego was sufficiently shattered, Natalia recomposed herself, held her chin up, and daintily began to walk away, the very picture of elegance. "However," she said, her voice perfectly controlled and polite, "it is my father's will that I go through with this marriage and form a family of my own, so I cannot disappoint him again. You should be grateful to me."

oOo

"Lovino, your hands are shaking! Is something wrong?" asked Antonio, concern lacing his normally carefree voice.

Lovino set his cup of wine on the counter a little more forcefully than was necessary and crossed his arms, clenching his hands into fists in order to conceal the way they were shaking. Now that he was no longer a novice, he felt no guilt or shame whatsoever about being found at the local inn – not that he had felt much guilt or shame before, either – so the first thing he had done after his meeting with the Russos had been coming here to soothe his nerves. It wasn't working too well so far, though.

Antonio took a seat next to him, and even without meeting his gaze, Lovino knew the concern in his friend's deep green eyes was only increased by his delay in answering his question. Antonio was the kind of person who couldn't take a hint and just leave someone alone when he was convinced they were in some kind of trouble. Not that Lovino wanted him to leave on this particular occasion; he really needed someone to rant at and get this off his chest right now.

"I knew it! I knew there was some kind of horrible catch!" he burst out. "Turns out her father is a fucking giant! His eyes—you should see his eyes! He looks—looks all wrong, y'know! Looks like a nice guy and all, but when you look at his eyes, he looks like one of those demented psychos who kill for the heck of it, fucking bastard, no wonder that crazy bitch loves him." Here he paused to gulp down the rest of his wine. One glance at Antonio's face told him his friend was now quite alarmed. "Oh, yeah, and my fiancée, God, what a crazy bitch! 'Lovely, demure young lady,' my ass! Can you believe her first words to me were, 'I hate you!'? What the hell is wrong with her?"

"L-Lovino, er, how much have you had to drink?"

Lovino threw him a dirty glare. "I'm not drunk, if that's what you're wondering. I _wish_ I was. Were you even listening to me, bastard?"

"Yes, um... I'm sorry the meeting didn't go as well as we'd hoped." Antonio hesitated and then, almost afraid, asked, "Does that mean you're going to call off the marriage?"

"Absolutely not!" shouted Lovino, knocking his fist down on the counter. "We'll get separate rooms! The manor is big enough, it shouldn't be too difficult to avoid her and pretend she doesn't even exist most of the time! Why should I give up on everything I ever dreamt of just because my fiancée is a crazy bitch? No, no, they're not getting rid of me that easily!"

"If you say so..." murmured Antonio, with a sigh. Then, he ordered himself a drink and fell into a forlorn silence. Lovino stared at him for a while. Well, well, today was full of surprises, indeed. A sad Antonio wasn't something one saw everyday.

"How did it go with Bella?" he asked. Perhaps inspired by all this talk of marriage, and because he had also left the monastery – for there was no reason for him to stay if Lovino had left it – Antonio had finally decided to confess his feelings to Isabella while Lovino was meeting his fiancée and his future father-in-law. Judging by Antonio's dispirited demeanour, however, he could only assume things had not gone well for him, either. "Did she reject you?"

Antonio swallowed thickly and his eyes were unusually bright. "I... I couldn't tell her."

"What? You chickened out _again_? Goddammit, Antonio, you're so fucking stupid!"

"I just couldn't! It wasn't really my fault!" Antonio tried to excuse himself. "We were doing small talk – so I could work up the courage and wait for the right moment, you see – and I told her the news of your marriage. She... she looked so disappointed and sad all of a sudden that I just couldn't say anything." He sighed and looked at Lovino as if he were a kicked puppy. "Do you really think she likes me? I don't think she does... Actually, I'm beginning to think she likes _you_. What do you think?"

Grumbling a few more expletives under his breath, Lovino produced a few coins from his pocket and slammed them on the counter to pay for the drinks.

"I refuse to continue this ridiculous conversation," he said as he stood up and staggered a little on his way to the door. Antonio was immediately at his side, ready to support him should he fall over. "God, won't this shitty, absurd day never end?"

"You should go to bed and sleep it off. Things will look much better tomorrow."

"Shut the fuck up. I'm so goddamn tired of your undying optimism. And I'm _not_ drunk, so stop looking at me as if I'm going to collapse any moment, dammit."

Antonio just laughed in his usual, airy way. Damn him. Why was he so happy all the time, even after he failed spectacularly in his love life? Damn him and his idiocy.

"Hey, Lovino, I was wondering... Now that I'm leaving the monastery, I'll need to make money to support myself. D'you think you could get me a job at your manor once you inherit it?"

Lovino had an answer ready right away, but pretended to think about it. "Sure, why not?" he gave Antonio an indulgent smile. "Can't be helped, anyway. It's not like I could just let you starve to death. You wouldn't last a week without my help."

Antonio laughed again in good humour. "Thanks!"

"Stupid happy idiot..." Lovino muttered. "By the way, you're going to be my best man. Get yourself some nice clothes and try not to look too retarded during the ceremony."

"It would be my honour!_"_


	3. The Worst and the Best Nights

**A/N: **I must say I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter. It was the hardest to write, and it's probably not what you expected it to be. I had a lot of fun writing Natalia, though, and I regret that I couldn't expand on her and Lovino's life as a couple.

* * *

– **CHAPTER 3 –**

_**The Worst and the Best Nights**_

The wedding was a rather awkward affair. The Russos had invited a bunch of nobles Lovino had never seen before. All those eyes on him, judging him, would have been enough for him to wish the floor would open up and swallow him whole. On the groom's side of the church, the young women kept bursting into tears and sobs that, together, could be heard throughout the church. Whether they were just touched by the sheer beauty of the ceremony or mourning their chances with Lovino, no one knew. Antonio only made things worse by constantly lamenting that Feliciano wasn't here to witness his own brother's wedding. Lovino couldn't even punch him this time, lest he caused a scene.

On top of all that, the bride was late to arrive – much, much later than was normal for any bride – and Lovino feared that she had changed her mind about obeying her father and would not be coming after all. Then, when she finally arrived, he almost wished she hadn't. She didn't even try to disguise her anger; even Father Vinicius was taken aback when a vicious "yes, I do" was snarled from under her veil at the traditional question. Lovino was very glad when it was all over.

The worst part, however, came exactly that night. The ceremony had really been a breeze compared to their honeymoon, when they were supposed to consummate their marriage. Lovino was honestly trying to make the best out of it. Avoiding her murderous eyes, he began to undress her in an almost business-like fashion. He was a little bit daunted when she responded by literally tearing his clothes off, looking as though she were tearing his _skin_ off.

"All right, let's get this over with," she said through gritted teeth, tensing and recoiling when he touched her as if he were a leper.

"Try to relax, then," he muttered, appraising her bare body. Maybe he was biased, influenced by her disagreeable personality, but she didn't look as attractive under those pretty clothes as he had expected. He closed his eyes for a moment.

Suddenly, he caught a glint out of the corner of his eye and, next thing he knew, something very sharp and cold was touching his inner thigh. He froze. Either he had been more ignorant of female anatomy than he had ever thought possible, or...

His gaze slid down her body and saw the very sharp knife.

"What the fuck?" he burst out and just stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

"Hurt me and I'll cut them off," said Natalia tonelessly.

"What—You can't—I mean, that's not—Where did you—" Natalia seemed to specially proficient at rendering Lovino incoherent. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the threat below. "Look," he began in what he believed was a sufficiently reasonable tone, "I swear to God I'll try to be gentle, but if I'm quite honest, I've never—never really done this before—" these words came out a little choked "—and I'm pretty sure that the first time usually hurts no matter how careful—"

"I don't think you understood this very simple thing," said Natalia. Then, very slowly, she repeated, "Hurt me... and I'll cut – them – off."

Lovino began to sweat, and not in a pleasant, aroused way at all. "Look, if you do that, we'll never have any heirs—"

"That is your problem, not mine. _You_ are the man of the family now. It is _your _duty to make sure your family's legacy is passed on."

"I don't think that's—"

"Did I _ask_ for your opinion? Now, get on with it. I'm tired, and I want this horrible day to be over."

"Okay... okay, okay, fine. Can you—can you just please put that knife away? I don't think I can concentrate like that."

"No. I'm not an idiot, you know. Deal with it. Oh, and don't even _think_ of doing anything stupid like try to wrestle it out of my hand, or I _will_ kill you."

In the end, they couldn't do it.

oOo

Several days passed, and every night ended in frustration. Even when Lovino finally convinced Natalia not to bring any sharp objects to the bed, they still couldn't finish what they had started. Even when Natalia was in a relatively good mood and spouted no insults or threats and didn't glare at him too much, even when she was actually in the mood, after a good dose of liquor, it did them no good. Frustration quickly turned into worry and then finally evolved into full-blown panic. Natalia had already become willing, so the problem _had_ to be him. There was no other explanation.

"You're being too hard on yourself, Lovino," Antonio told him when they both met at the local inn once again.

"I'm telling you, there has got to be something very wrong with me!" Lovino beckoned at his friend to lean in closer and whispered, "It's just that I—I don't _feel_ anything when I look at her. I mean, she isn't ugly. I thought that just by looking at her and touching her I'd feel at least something! Isn't that how it works? But I feel nothing. That—that can't be a good sign, Antonio! I-I'm beginning to question my nature. D'you—I mean, honestly, do you think I'm a—" he choked up, so frightened he was by his own thoughts.

However, Antonio simply laughed in that good-natured way of his and slapped Lovino's back. "Lovino, my friend, just calm down! There is nothing wrong with you! I mean, except maybe that foul temper of yours – you really shouldn't swear so much, you know – and you really should learn to see the good side of things, and maybe you could be a little nicer to people who _aren't_ pretty girls, and sure, you might be a little too violent sometimes," he babbled. "But that aside, there's nothing wrong with you! You were just turned off by your wife's personality and threats. Who _wouldn't_ be, really?"

"How can you be so sure? I bet you don't even believe your own words! You're just saying that to make me feel better, aren't you?"

"I'll prove it to you!" Antonio leant back on his chair, utterly undisturbed. "I'll prove to you that this is Natalia's fault and that there's nothing wrong with you."

At first, Lovino was doubtful. Then, when Antonio dragged him out of the inn and led him to a more remote, shady part of the town, he felt progressively wary.

"Antonio? Just where the hell are you taking me, Antonio?" he demanded to know.

"You'll know when we get there," replied Antonio in a sing-song tone.

"This place looks a little dangerous. I feel as though someone is going to jump us from a corner at any moment now and rob us. I'm rich now, I'm an easy target!"

"It's okay. I'll protect you," Antonio reassured him – rather condescendingly, in Lovino's opinion – and patted him on the head as if he were a little kid. Lovino would have kicked him where it really hurt right then, if only Antonio hadn't suddenly announced, "Ah, here we are!"

They stood before a small, run-down building that Lovino would have never even dreamt of approaching under any other circumstances. In fact, he still had a very bad feeling about all this, but before he could voice an objection, Antonio pushed the door open and pulled Lovino inside.

The abrupt change in the air was almost overwhelming. Lovino felt his eyes water and his throat close up at the bitter smell of tobacco mixed in with cheap, sickly sweet perfume and God knew what else. There appeared to be a layer of smoke around that made everything look slightly blurry.

"What is this place?" he quietly asked, although he thought he had an idea and one look at his surroundings would have made it quite obvious. He dared not take his eyes off the floor, though. "Have you been here before?"

"Of course! This is where I've been coming almost every night while you were with Natalia. I'll introduce you a certain someone. She's amazing. Valentina!" she shouted out suddenly, startling Lovino. "Hey, Valentina! C'mere! I want you to meet my friend!"

Approaching steps.

"He's cute," said the voice in a quiet, almost awed tone.

Lovino could no longer resist his curiosity and lifted his gaze off the floor to look at the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen in his life. She was the fiancée he had envisioned before actually meeting Natalia Russo. Her skin had a slight, healthy tan and her jet-black hair fell in wavy locks around her shoulders, just the way Lovino liked and in stark contrast to Natalia's ghostly complexion and dull, almost white hair which hung straight down from her head.

She also did something that Natalia had never done in his presence; she smiled. And it wasn't the dreamy, too-wide grin that most girls in town often gave him. It was just a pleasant, relaxed smile that one would wear upon meeting an old childhood friend. For some reason, this kind of smile felt a hundred times more flattering than the silly grins he was used to.

However, none of that changed the fact that this woman was a whore.

At this point, his face must have been red as a tomato – especially if the way he felt like a human torch was anything to go by – because even his eternally oblivious friend seemed to noticed it. Antonio took one look at him and laughed before leaning closer and whispering, "You like her, don't you? I knew you would!"

Trying his best to ignore Valentina's presence, Lovino turned to glare at Antonio and struggled to get the words out. "Antonio. This has got to be the stupidest idea you have ever had, which, considering it's you, is saying something!"

"Aww, don't be like that," said Antonio. "Valentina is a very nice girl. Trust me, you're going to love her. She will make this the best night of your entirely life." He began to gently push Lovino towards the patiently waiting Valentina, but didn't make much progress when Lovino planted his heels on the floor and refused to budge. Unfortunately for Lovino, though, Antonio was a lot stronger than him and won out in the end.

"Didn't you want me to prove to you that there's nothing wrong with you?" insisted Antonio.

"No, no, this a horrible idea!"

"You're being silly. Just go, don't be so stubborn."

This might have developed into a (rather one-sided) brawl, had Valentina not stepped in between both men right then to hold Lovino's arm and gently coax him to accompany her.

"It's okay, don't worry, I'll make it worth your while," she kept reassuring him. If it had been a man daring to touch him and trying to break the fight apart, Lovino would have shrugged them off and maybe struck them in the gut for good measure, with the addition of yelling some choice words that would have made a pirate blush. However, when it was such a beautiful, delicate girl, smiling so softly at him, even if she didn't have a very respectable job, he just couldn't bring himself to be rude to her. Before he knew it, he was standing in a dark, secluded room, alone with Valentina. There was a bed in the room, he noted.

He stood there for a moment, speechless and unsure of what he should do. He still had half a mind to turn around and flee out of the door, and then kill Antonio in a slow and painful way for bringing him here.

"I never took you for the shy, prudish type," she said, with a quiet giggle, as she stood so close to him that he could feel the warmth of her breath. "Then again, I heard you used to be a novice, so maybe I shouldn't be surprised."

"Did Antonio tell you that?" he asked, scowling. "I'm a little disturbed that he has been talking about me while you two were doing—_unmentionable_ things together."

She laughed again, a light, fluttering sound. "Antonio doesn't seek my company just for _that_. He's not that kind of man. Besides, the whole town has heard about the marriage of the mysterious count's daughter with the handsome novice." She looked at him for a moment, paused, and grinned. "You really look adorable when you pout like that, you know."

"What the hell? I do _not_ pout!" he snapped.

He tried to stay angry, because he most definitely did not want to be here and thought this was a terrible idea, but it was difficult to focus on his anger when slender, warm hands touched the sides of his head and red, full lips whispered against his, "I don't usually do it like this, but I really like you, so you get special treatment."

Her hands slid down his body and took hold of his hands to guide them around her waist. That was when his hands seemingly began to move of their own accord to explore her body, savouring the curves of her figure and the smoothness of her skin, mirrored by the way his tongue was now exploring hers. Slowly, he began to relax. This was nothing strange to him; he had rather often done this with a few lucky girls whenever he'd known he could get away with it – and occasionally when there _had _been a risk of being caught.

At some point, her hands had also started roaming his body and removing his clothes. Or, perhaps more accurately, she removed only the more superfluous items of clothing and the first layer; when she stopped, he was still fully covered, whereas she had already been discharged of most of her clothes. Lovino only noticed all this when she pulled away from him, as if she were trying to show him something, or offer him a choice. He wasn't really in any condition to interpret her actions at the moment, though; all coherent thought had long vanished from his mind.

Seeing that he wasn't going anywhere, Valentina pulled him towards the bed, where she lay down and disposed of the last layer of clothing on her person. Lovino froze at the sight, his throat going dry. She really had to be the most gorgeous woman in the world, too perfect to be true. She was beauty personified. He would have believed this was all a delicious dream, but the burning sensation below his waist suddenly became too intense for this to be just a dream. All doubt and nervousness that had remained up to this point was now gone. Without thinking, he joined Valentina on the bed and for once allowed himself to stop worrying and enjoy the moment.

oOo

Although it was a indubitable fact that Lovino was lazy, he had always been an early bird, so to speak. Even before he had joined the order at the monastery as a novice and been expected to be up long before sunrise, even when he had been a little child, he would always wake up before anyone else. This morning was no different. However, just because he had the habit of waking up early did not mean he actually had to get up from bed. When he could, he would often spend some minutes – or even an entire hour – just lying on the bed and enjoying the bliss of that hazy state of mind between unconsciousness and wakefulness.

He spent a good while there, not thinking about anything at all, just revelling in this moment of pure bliss. He had no idea what time it was or how long he lay there; it could have been hours, as far as he was concerned. He only awoke fully and opened his eyes when Valentina stirred and rolled over next to him, making the mattress bounce a little. Lovino also shifted so he was lying on his side and facing Valentina. God, even when she was just awakening, before she had the chance to brush her hair and wash up, she still looked so beautiful.

"'Morning," she whispered at him sleepily, her eyes half-lidded. "You're up already? It's too early."

"'Morning," he responded with a smile, then frowned. "Say, is it... usual for your... clients to stay here till morning like this?" he asked slowly, hesitantly.

Valentina gave him a drowsy smile and shook her head vaguely. "I told you, you get special treatment."

He returned her smile and gently traced a finger down her cheek and around her chin; it was a bit like touching silk. Valentina blushed slightly at the gesture and scooted up closer to him, her slender arms snaking around his waist. Lovino then began to brush her hair, which was as soft and pleasant to the touch as her skin. She watched him for a moment, looking as though she wanted to say something but didn't know if she should.

"I think I love you," she finally confessed.

Lovino paused in his ministrations, taken aback. His smile wavered, but did not disappear. Her words left him quite dismayed and at a bit of a loss. Honestly, women could say the silliest things. She couldn't possibly love him for real; it just didn't work that way. They had only known each other for a few hours, and even during most of those hours, they had barely talked to each other. She could certainly think he was an interesting, handsome man, someone she would like to be meet on a regular basis, and that relationship might eventually develop into something deeper. That was how these things happened, as far as he knew. There was certainly no such thing as love at first sight. Love in itself was a dubious thing to him, so love at first sight could certainly never be anything but a flimsy, passing fancy.

So, either her words were empty, meant for flattery, or she was infatuated with him, like so many girls before her. Whatever it was, Lovino couldn't take her words seriously. On the other hand, how was he supposed to respond to them? Did she actually expect him to reply with a sappy, "I love you, too"? Even if he had loved her, he doubt he could have said that with a straight face. Yet, at the same time, he didn't want to disappoint her.

"I... I really like you, too," he compromised, resuming his caresses and brushing locks of hair off her dark eyes. "I wish we could stay like this forever." This much was the pure truth. He didn't need to love her to want to stay with her and repeat last night's experience, after all. That was one of the reasons why he was disinclined to let her down; what if she got mad at him and said she didn't want to see him any more? That would be such a shame. Worse yet, what if, on top of that, she started to cry? One of the things Lovino hated the most was seeing a girl cry. It never failed to cut right through his heart.

The blush gracing Valentina's face became even pronounced at his words, her smile even more delighted. In a flash, as if she had been holding back for quite a while, she planted a kiss on his lips. Then, more calmly and passionately, she leant in for another, more prolonged one, which Lovino returned wholeheartedly. He really liked the way this was heading, as he had been looking forward to revisiting last night's paradise.

He was vaguely aware of some stomping and unintelligible yelling outside the room, but didn't pay it any mind until the yelling was coming from right the other side of the door, accompanied by insistent knocks. Now that the voice was close and loud enough, Lovino could recognise it as Antonio's voice, shouting his name.

"Lovino! Lovino! If you're here, please open the door! Lovino!"

"Our friend Antonio sounds very troubled," Valentina pointed out, a note of concern entering her voice.

Lovino, for his part, was too annoyed to be the least bit concerned. With a grunt, he fished for his clothes and hurriedly put them on. Once he was decent enough, he threw the door open and shouted, "What the hell do you want?"

"Lovino!" Antonio wasn't at all relieved to find his friend. If anything, he looked even more dismayed, as if _he_ were the one who had been interrupted by Lovino. "So you did spend the night here! I—I was hoping you'd gone home on your own!"

"I don't see how that's any of your fucking business," Lovino snarled and prepared to slam the door on Antonio's face, but the older man stopped him.

"Listen, I was thinking—"

"Wow! No wonder you're so distressed! Pushing yourself so hard like that..."

"Something horrible occurred to me!" said Antonio, completely ignoring the sarcasm. "You have to go home as quickly as possible!"

Lovino faltered. "Why?" he asked in a more subdued tone as concern finally began to tug at him. "Did something happen?"

"Lovino, you can't afford to stay in a brothel for as long as you like! You're a married man! You have to be more careful from now on!"

For a moment, Lovino could only stare at his panicking friend blankly, unable to comprehend what he was talking about. Then, it all came back to him. That was right; he was married now. He had married a count's daughter. He had honestly completely forgotten about her. As realisation dawned on him, he could feel his blood draining at all of the implications this entailed.

"If they find out about this—" said Antonio, mirroring his panic and voicing his exact thoughts. He didn't even need to specify who were _they_. "If they even _suspect_—" he seemed to be having trouble finishing his sentences, which was only natural, for the rest of them was painfully obvious and too horrific to contemplate.

Oh, God! Oh, God, what had he done? He was going to die. He was a dead man. No, he was worse than dead. "Dead" would have been too simple. He was _doomed_.

"Goddammit, Antonio, this is all your fault!" he lashed out irrationally and hurried to pick up the rest of his clothes.

"Will you come back to see me again?" asked Valentina, who either didn't understand what was going on or just didn't care.

"Yes, yes, of course, I'll come back as soon as I can," Lovino reassured her without really thinking, even as part of him cynically wondered if it was really worth the risk of castration and death by torture at the hands of an insane witch. He dared not even think about what said witch's _father_ would do.

oOo

Some time after they left the brothel, the rush of panic began to fade and slowly give way for rationality to return. There was still a good chance no one would ever find out. The sun had already risen, but it was still quite early in the morning, and unlike Lovino, Natalia was no early bird. If he made it to the manor in time, she would never even suspect something was amiss. Even if she did find out, somehow, that Lovino had been absent during the night and had come into the manor early in the morning, he could come up with some excuse about how he couldn't sleep at night – easily believable, since she had often woken up in the middle of the night to find him wide awake or wandering the manor with a case of insomnia – and how, for that reason, he had decided to go outside for a stroll in that sorry excuse for a garden.

Indeed, there was no need to worry. No one would suspect a thing. Or so he kept telling himself during the journey home, though even his own reassurances didn't make him feel much better.

The manor was eerily quiet when he stepped inside. It looked like even the servants were still asleep, so it must have been even earlier in the morning than Lovino had thought. That was good. Tentatively, he began to make his way to their bedroom. He almost wished Antonio was with him – even if that man was mostly useless, his presence would be comforting – but Antonio had insisted that he should enter the manor through the back door. Lovino was quite convinced that Antonio didn't plan to enter the manor at all and had only come up with an excuse to run away and save his own skin, the stupid coward.

Thanks to his annoyance towards Antonio and the fact that it was completely quiet in the manor, Lovino had begun to feel a little more confident. He no longer expected to see a knife-wielding, possessed doll jump at him from around the corner or from behind the curtains. Which was why, when he opened the door across the main hall and found himself only two feet from Natalia's unamused face, he let out a very unmanly shriek and jumped out of his skin.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing here?" he panted, gripping his chest to prevent his hammering heart from breaking through.

"I live here," was her quiet answer as she stepped forward. That was when Lovino realised he had been backing away. Even after this realisation, he didn't stop moving backwards. His gaze immediately searched for her hands, which were both visible and thankfully empty.

"Oh, of course, I know that," he babbled and coughed to clear his throat. "I just meant, um, what are you doing, you know, right here?"

"I was waiting for you."

"Oh? Is there something you want to talk about with me?"

"Indeed. Well, not so much talk as ask you a simple question, really." Her features softened all of a sudden and she gave him a rather contemplative look. "It's something I am very curious to know, and I have been pondering it for quite a while now."

Lovino frowned, intrigued. "O-okay. Go ahead, then."

And in the blink of an eye, her features twisted again into a scowl, except this time it looked more vicious and hateful than any other time before. Her right hand reached behind her back and whipped out a gun, which she aimed right between his eyes and made him nearly jump out of his skin again. It was such a hellish sight that he half-expected her to breathe fire on him when she opened her mouth.

"Did you really think you could cheat on me and get away with it?" she asked in a snarl, grinding and twisting the words in her mouth so that they came out barely intelligible.

"What?" Lovino breathed out, too preoccupied with the gun aimed at his head to summon the words for a more intelligent reply. Outwardly, he was frozen, paralysed, but inwardly he was flailing in blind panic. _She knows! How could she know? How did she find out? No, there's no way she can know for sure, she's just suspicious, she's bluffing, waiting for a confession, you can still get away with it, Lovino, come on, tell her the excuses you cooked up on your way here, come on, Lovino, say something, SAY SOMETHING, damn you!_

Nothing came out of his mouth, though. He might have had better luck dealing with this woman if she had been threatening him with a knife as usual, but never had he expected her, such a delicate-looking young lady, to have a _gun_. This was very different from a knife, against which he would still have had a chance. One wrong move now and he was done for.

"Don't even try to deny it. I had spies follow your every step ever since we got married. They told me all about your little escapade last night," Natalia explained. "No one cheats on a Russo and gets away with it, do you hear me? _No one_!" she screeched, quickly losing her cool. The hand that held the gun began to shake. "God help me, I will make you pay! I will make you suffer, you son of a bitch! By the time I'm done with you, you will be begging me to send you straight to hell!"

"Wait—" he tried to say. An ominous click was heard, followed by an explosive sound, so loud that for one second Lovino thought his eardrums had burst and the entire house was collapsing on top of his dying form. When he gathered his wits again, the house was still firmly in place, he was lying on his back on the floor, shaken but uninjured, and he could hear the quick, rhythmic sound of Natalia's high heels coming closer.

All right, by some _miracle_ he had dodged the first bullet, but he was sure he wouldn't be so lucky next time, and Natalia was already reloading her gun. Possibly, she hadn't been able to aim at him properly with a shaking hand, but now she had recovered her cool and wouldn't allow herself to miss her target a second time. Lovino crawled backwards and then managed to get on his feet. He wasn't even really thinking about what he was doing; he just trusted his legs to take him as far away from Natalia as possible while there was some time.

That soft click again, and another bullet was cutting through the air. Lovino was fortunate that he managed to take a turn around the corner so that the wall shielded him from the bullet.

"Third time is the charm," said Natalia serenely. "I wouldn't bother trying to run away if I were you. Even if you can get out of this house alive – which you won't, just so you know – you still have my father and my family's private army to deal with. We will hunt you down like the dog you are. Even if I have to spend the family's entire fortune for it, I will continue to haunt you forever and ever. You will never get rid of me. You will never have a moment of peace in your shortened, miserable life. So why don't you just give up and let me kill you now?"

While Natalia was reloading her gun and making that little speech, Lovino was crossing the living room. He knew he wouldn't be able to reach the next door in time, so he decided to take cover behind some heavy piece of furniture, but he wasn't quick enough and the next shot hit him on the right shoulder. He gasped at the burning sensation and curled up behind the couch. He clamped his hand on his injured shoulder, feeling warm wetness spilling around his trembling fingers. This was it. He wouldn't be able to keep running with such an injury. All he could do now was wait for his fate here. He let go of his shoulder to reach for his rosary and began to pray.

"You disgust me," he heard her say when she caught up with him. He only spared her a brief glance. "You're not even man enough to face death with your head held high, standing proud on your feet. And you call yourself a nobleman! You were never worthy to be part of this family in the first place. Pathetic!" she spat.

Lovino paused in his praying, struck deep by her words because he knew – had always known, deep down – that he was a coward, that he had always been weak and useless. He was suddenly reminded of his grandfather. Even as a noble youth, his grandfather had been notable for his bravery and skill not only when facing noble rivals in politics, but also when facing thieves and assassins who came after him. He had been his own bodyguard, never having to rely on anyone else, which earned him the admiration and respect from everyone who had heard of him, even from his enemies. What would his grandfather, such a strong, proud man, think if he could see his grandson now, cowering on his knees before a woman?

The thought didn't give him strength to stand up and face this threat like his grandfather would certainly have done. Rather, it only made him sick to his stomach. Why should he even care what the old man would have thought of this humiliation, anyway? The old man was the one who had first brought disgrace to this family. His bloodline had been ruined long before Lovino had even been born. He was the one who had made his progeny weak.

"Damn you, Grandpa... It's your fault..." he whispered.

Natalia was grimacing down at him. "What is that? Are you _crying_? You really are—" whatever insult she was going to hurl at him was cut off short when one strong arm grabbed her from behind and one hand held her right wrist to point the gun away from Lovino and eventually make her drop it.

Natalia screamed in shock and rage and struggled against Antonio's grip. He was much stronger than her, but Natalia had agility and flexibility on her side and began to kick him with the sharp heels of her boots. He winced and loosened his grip on her just barely, but it was enough for her to turn around and try to wrestle him. Antonio still had the upper hand, however, and was able to shove her against the wall.

Maybe he was a little too forceful with that move, because Natalia's head knocked loudly on the wall and she suddenly went limp. Antonio was too surprised to properly hold her collapsing body and only managed to slow down her fall to the floor. His eyes widened in shock and a little bit of remorse.

"Oh, God! I-I didn't mean to—I hope she's not hurt too badly..." he babbled and turned to look at Lovino, who was still crouched behind the sofa, shaking like a leaf. "You're still here? Why didn't you run away while I held her off? Is something wrong?" He stepped closer and took a closer look at his friend. "Oh, God, you're bleeding! No wonder you look so pale! Are you okay?"

Even in such an extreme situation, Antonio was still an idiot. What kind of question was that? Lovino was _not_ okay; wasn't that painfully obvious? Lovino wanted to snap at him for being so stupid, but he was still dazed, as if in a state of shock, and he felt that if he opened his mouth now, he might get sick.

"What's wrong?" Antonio asked in growing worry. "Can't you talk? Can you walk? Do you need me to help you?" Without really waiting for an answer – which wouldn't have been forthcoming, anyway – Antonio gently helped Lovino up and supported him. Lovino still had enough wits about him to gesture at the gun. He meant to tell Antonio to take it with him, but the words came out garbled. Antonio got the idea all the same, picked the gun up, and the both of them made their slow, staggering way out of the manor. Oddly enough, no servant had come to see what all the noise was all about and no one showed up to stop them from leaving.


	4. On the Run

**– ****CHAPTER 4 –**

_**On the Run**_

Antonio knew he was no genius, though he was certainly not as stupid as Lovino seemed to think, and he was all too familiar with the feeling of being at a loss because he didn't understand what was going on around him. Usually, he wouldn't even mind that feeling. But he had never felt more lost than now, and for once it made him really anxious, because this time it was different. This time, it seemed pretty dangerous.

He understood that Natalia had somehow found out about Lovino's infidelity, much sooner than he had ever thought possible. He had no idea how she had done it. Or maybe she _hadn't_ found out about it at all and had simply lost her mind and gone on a mindless rampage. Lovino had always claimed she was insane, after all, so it didn't seem like such an unlikely possibility. Or maybe she had been planning to kill him from the very beginning, so she could inherit her father's property and fortune and not have to share it with a man she had always disliked. Antonio wouldn't put it past her.

Her reasons for being after Lovino's blood were not important, though. The point was that she was after Lovino's blood and Antonio had no idea what to do about it. Once they had escaped from the manor, Antonio had assumed they would head to the church. Lovino had told him the Russos were a powerful family with a little army of their own and that either Natalia or her father would surely send them after him.

Again, Antonio was not a complete idiot. He realised they would probably stand little chance against the Russos' private army. He knew those men would search the entire town after them very soon, so they didn't have much time. He also realised that Lovino was wounded and needed to take care of it as soon as possible. So, naturally, Antonio had assumed the church would be their destination, where they would surely be granted sanctuary. No matter how powerful the Russos were, they would never violate that. Besides, Father Vinicius was very knowledgeable in the field of medicine and would nurse Lovino back to health, like he had done many times in the past. And then, well, they would have figured out what to do next once they'd got there.

But no, Lovino had _adamantly _refused to go to the church, much to Antonio's utter surprise and confusion. He had insisted no place in the town was safe, not even the church – _especially_ not the church, he had stressed – and he had wanted to get as far away as from it possible right away. Antonio had thought his young friend had some kind of plan, but that turned out to be yet another wrong assumption. Lovino had absolutely no idea what he was doing; he was just running wildly in blind panic. That was stupid, Antonio thought; now they had wasted a lot of time and, by the time Lovino recovered his wits and realised the church was the best and pretty much only escape, it wouldn't be as easy to reach it.

Antonio tried to point all this out to Lovino as they left the town and ventured into the woods, but Lovino refused to listen to a single word, and Antonio's questions about his motives were either vague, nonsensical answers, or were ignored altogether. So, Antonio started to resign himself to this insanity. One couldn't reason with Lovino when he was in one of his moods. Antonio was quite used to it by now.

"It doesn't look that bad," he sighed as he examined the wound on Lovino's shoulder again. "The bullet just grazed it. It's just a flesh wound. You'll be all right." Though he said that, he was still a little worried. It really didn't look bad, and he had done his best to clean it and wrap some makeshift bandages around it, but he would be much more at ease if they could be somewhere civilised, in better conditions, with someone who had some experience with healing. Not only because of this wound, but also because Lovino still looked kind of sick. He was frightfully pale, sweating, shaking, cold to the touch, short of breath, and he looked like he might throw up any minute. Antonio thought it was too early for the wound to cause all this, so he must be coming down with something, right?

He watched his troubled friend for a while. Usually, when he did this, Lovino would soon notice he was being stared at and snap at him for it, since he hated being stared at. But this time, nothing happened.

"What now?" he prompted. "What do you want to do? Where are we going?"

"I don't care, as long as it's far away from here!" Lovino said for what had to be the millionth time today. Then, maybe realising how repetitive he sounded, he seemed to think a little more about it and, in a more subdued tone, added, "The nearest town is to the north. Let's go there."

"But we don't have a horse!" said Antonio, dismayed and disappointed. When Lovino had looked that contemplative, Antonio had expected him to have seen reason at last. "We have no provisions, either. We're completely empty-handed!"

"I don't care! We're going to make it!"

"The church—"

"Will you shut the fuck up about that goddamned church already! I told you, I'll never go back there! I don't ever want to see Father Vinicius, ever again!" yelled Lovino, a hint of hysteria entering his voice.

"Fine, fine, just calm down," Antonio sighed. He shouldn't have insisted on the subject and got Lovino all worked up. He was just making things worse. "Look, I'm starving, and you should probably eat something, too. I'll go and see if I can find us anything to eat. And firewood, too."

"What? You're leaving me here all by myself?" Lovino looked utterly terrified at the idea.

"J-just for a little while!" Antonio hurried to reassure him. "I'll be back in a moment, I promise. Don't worry, no one will find you here. And anyway, you still have the gun we took from Natalia, right?"

"Y-yeah, but... what if something happens to _you_? You won't be able to defend yourself without a weapon," said Lovino, with that expression he always wore when he was genuinely worried and tried to hide behind a mask of annoyance. Antonio was touched, but knew better than to voice his thoughts and risk being shot.

"I'll be all right!" was all he said, laughing in good humour to break the gloomy atmosphere and cheer his friend up. Lovino looked annoyed, but at least the irrational fear that had been tainting his eyes all day faded. Certain now that Lovino was feeling a little better, Antonio set off in search of food and firewood.

As he often did when faced with a problem, Antonio decided to get his mind off it and allow himself to relax and focus on more mundane tasks. Thinking about problems would only make him fret, and if he fretted, he couldn't think straight and come up with a solution, so it would get him nowhere. If he just let his mind rest, an answer would eventually come up somehow. That was how it had always been with him. Not at all like Lovino, who would rather worry himself sick than relax for one minute. His poor friend, he wouldn't have a very long, healthy life if he kept up with that kind of mentality.

Nevertheless, he wasn't foolish enough to lower his guard, even though he presumed the chances of getting caught in this place were still quite small. He was attentive to any strange, suspicious sound and kept an eye open for any sign of danger. After a while, he thought he was maybe overdoing it and had got his imagination to play tricks on him, because he could swear he was hearing a distant, high-pitched voice shouting for his and Lovino's names. That was impossible, though. Even if Natalia had somehow guessed they were hiding in these parts, she wouldn't be shouting for them; she would search for them in silence and creep up on them.

The voice was becoming louder and louder, though, so before Antonio could begin to fear for his sanity, he decided to follow it and see if there really was someone out there looking for them and who it was. As he came closer, another sound could be heard, a sound like a horse's trot. As it turned out, he wasn't just hearing things; he found the owner of that voice riding on a horse along the road that cut through the woods. His jaw dropped at the unexpected sight.

"Bella?" he shouted without really thinking. The girl glanced around until she finally located him, then made her horse turn around and go over to the dumbstruck Antonio.

"Antonio, I'm so glad I finally found you!" she said, dismounting the horse, a relieved grin on her face.

"What—What are you doing here?" he stammered.

"I've been looking all over for you!" said Bella. "As soon as I heard about what happened—"

"People already know what happened?"

"—I knew you might need help, so I brought you some food, water, fresh bandages, a cloak, a map—"

"That's... pretty helpful, actually, but—"

"—but I couldn't find you anywhere! I thought you were going to the church for asylum—"

"That's what I was trying to—"

"—but you weren't there, so after a quick search around the town, I assumed you'd fled it—"

"Bella, slow down—"

"—and I was afraid that you'd gone too far for me to catch up, but I'm so glad I was able to find you here after all!" She took a deep breath for the first time in a while. Antonio took this opportunity to interject before she got started on round two.

"Bella, I really appreciate all the trouble you've gone through to help us. Really, I do, and I'm sure Lovino will be, too," he said, holding her shoulders gently. "But don't think you think that was a little reckless? What if you'd got hurt? I'd never forgive myself!"

"It's okay, Antonio!" She grinned. "I'm fine, see? And I see you're also all right. Now take me to Lovino. I want to make sure _he_ is all right."

oOo

Lovino had been jittery from the moment Antonio had left him alone in the woods. Not that he hadn't already been more than a little jumpy before that, what with knowing that Natalia's men would be coming after him sooner or later and all, but he hated being alone. Even more so, he hated being alone _and_ in danger. So, thanks to his already frayed nerves and progressively paranoid thoughts, he almost had a heart attack when he heard Antonio come back with another person in tow.

But as soon as he and Bella explained how she had reacted to the news of their escape from Natalia's clutches and how she had come looking for them, he just about had a stroke.

"You did what?" he hollered, effectively frightening all wildlife in a radius of several miles. "Do you have any idea how reckless and—and stupid that was? What the hell were you thinking? I can't believe you were looking for us by yelling our names around! What if there was someone following you, expecting you to lead them to us?"

"Well, in that case, you're not helping yourself any by yelling like that, either," Antonio pointed out in his infuriatingly calm way. "If no one heard Bella, they've certainly heard you now."

Lovino lifted the gun that he still held in his hand, contemplating if he should shoot Antonio for that cheeky comeback. Fortunately for Antonio, Bella diverted his attention by whimpering, her bottom lip trembling.

"I-I'm sorry, Lovino... I just wanted to help you... I-I even—I even b-brought you a horse. I was just so worried, I—" she rubbed her eye and quickly faced away from both men, her shoulders heaving. Lovino panicked.

"No, no, no, don't cry! Please!" said Lovino, his tone softening right away. "I-I'm—I'm sorry for being so harsh and rude to you. It's just that... well, you worried me, too! If you got hurt while trying to help me, I would never be able to forgive myself!"

"Oh, Lovino, that's so sweet of you! I'm really touched that you care so much about my well-being," said Bella, giving him a watery smile. Next to her, Antonio frowned.

"That's what I told you! And I didn't even have to be a jerk before I said it!" he whined, but he might as well be part of the landscape as far as Bella was concerned, for he went completely ignored. He pouted and glared at Lovino, who just shrugged (and then winced when the motion made his shoulder hurt). It wasn't _his_ fault that Bella couldn't care less about Antonio.

Bella must have noticed his wince, for she quickly came to kneel down next to him and asked to take a look at his wound. She fussed over him and set about cleaning and bandaging it properly. Lovino soaked up the attention for all it was worth. It was so much more pleasant to be tended to by a pretty girl, after all.

"Is it really painful?" she asked him.

"No, it doesn't hurt at all," he told her.

"Then what was all that whining about how badly it hurt when _I_ was taking care of it?" muttered Antonio sullenly, but once again, he was ignored.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Bella asked Lovino.

"We're heading north, to the nearest town."

"Oh..."

"Yes... I'll really miss you."

"I'll—" She shook her head. "Then I'm coming with you!"

"What?" shouted Lovino and Antonio in unison.

"What are you talking about? Of course you can't come with us!" said Lovino.

"He's right! It's too dangerous!" said Antonio. "Besides, your grandmother would be worried sick about you!"

"She'll be fine on her own! Grandma isn't helpless!" said Bella. "I told her it might be a while until I came back right before I left, and she was okay with that. And I'll go back or send her a letter as soon as I can so that she won't worry too much. It's no problem."

"Bella. No. Don't be silly," said Lovino. "Just... be a good girl, take your horse and go home. I can't have you dragged into this mess, too."

"But you'll never make it to the next town without a horse!" she argued. "I want to help you!"

"You've done enough and I'm very grateful. Now you can only help us by going back to safety."

"But—"

"Bella! You're not coming with us, and that's final!"

oOo

Neither Lovino nor Antonio could believe it, but Bella was coming with them, after all. She might seem like a docile, weak girl at first sight, but she could be really strong-willed and tenacious when she thought it was necessary. She was coming with them whether they wanted her to or not, even if she had to follow them under the shadows. She wouldn't give up no matter what they said. If anything, everything they said only made her even more eager to come with them.

So, after a very long, exhausting, and frustrating argument, they finally gave up and decided to set off. And then another argument was born. The problem was, they only had one horse. Bella insisted that Lovino should be the one to ride it, since he was injured and still looked quite sick – a fair point. On the other hand, Lovino didn't think it was right to make a lady walk when she could very well ride – also a very valid point. In the end, they agreed to ride together. A little awkward at first, but they got used to it, despite some grumbling on Lovino's part.

They actually made good progress for one day, all things considered, but it also became more and more obvious that the provisions Bella had brought would not be enough for the whole trip if they were going at this pace, especially if they were avoiding the road and taking the longer way. The fact that Lovino had become quieter and quieter also made Antonio nervous. On the one hand, it was a relief to his ears that he didn't have to hear his grumbling or insults any more; on the other hand, it was very unlike Lovino to be so quiet, so it did not bode too well.

"Maybe we should stop by some village halfway?" Antonio suggested.

"No, it'll only slow us down," replied Lovino, not nearly as vehemently as he would have been if he were feeling like himself. He looked exhausted, even though he had been riding for the whole trip so far. "Besides, they could be expecting us there."

"You're being paranoid," Antonio sighed. "I don't think anyone has been following us. Even if Natalia has sent someone after us, they can't possibly know where we're headed."

"She wouldn't send amateurs, idiot. Tracking us would be the easiest thing for them." He couldn't even muster the energy to sound remotely annoyed; now he just sounded tired.

Antonio looked back at him, noting how pale he was, and considered suggesting that they stop to rest a little, but then he thought he had heard something. Before he could even worry about it, however, Bella saw something ahead that made her gasp. Antonio returned his gaze to the trail and saw it, too – a small band of men in black uniforms, all wielding swords. Not exactly an army, for there was only half a dozen men, but Antonio and his companions were still severely outnumbered.

"Hi!" said Antonio, because he didn't know for sure if these men were really after them, and there was no reason not to be polite yet. "Um. Excuse me, but who are you?"

"We were sent by the Russos to arrest Lovino Vargas and Antonio Carriedo and bring them to Lady Russo," said the leader of the group.

Antonio could hear his two friends' breathing getting more and more frantic behind him, but he himself kept his cool. "I'm sorry, sir," he told them kindly, "but I'm afraid I've never heard of those people. We're not from around these parts, see? If I find out anything about their whereabouts, though, I'll let you know."

The leader of the group blinked once, his expression never changing, and then he brandished his sword and ordered his men to attack.

"You moron, did you really think for a moment they'd fall for that?" yelled Lovino. While it was reassuring to see his weakened friend acting more like himself again, this really wasn't the time for his insults. Antonio fumbled for the gun they had taken from Natalia.

"Where's the gun? Where is it?" he asked. He frantically searched for something – anything – that could be used as a weapon or at least as a shield.

One of the soldiers charged at Antonio, who saw the attack coming just in time to dodge it. The horse, not being a war horse, got frightened by the sudden commotion and reared back, throwing both of its riders off. Lovino ended up partially cushioning Bella's fall and nearly got trampled when the horse fled the scene.

The soldier who had attacked Antonio obviously had never expected him to be able to dodge, since he lost his balance a little when his sword hit nothing but empty air. Three other men advanced. Antonio took advantage of the first man's momentary distraction to knock him out with a solid punch to the jaw and then borrow his sword. Even if he wasn't an expert swordsman, it was much better than facing three armed men empty-handed.

As it was, he knew he couldn't possibly hold his own against the three of them at the same time, so he ran away. That way, the three men would catch up with him one by one, making it a lot easier to deal with them. He had no time to see what Lovino or Bella were doing; he could only hope they had been sensible enough to run away and keep themselves well hidden until Antonio could go back to them.

oOo

Once back on their feet, Lovino and Bella had run in a completely different direction, hoping that by splitting the group of soldiers up they would have better chances to fight them off. The problem was, Lovino wasn't much of a fighter, and Bella even less so. Lovino still had Natalia's gun, though. He was so glad he had had the idea to take it, because it just might save his life now. Unfortunately, he only had one bullet. Only one chance. He couldn't miss it. He couldn't!

"Bella, get away from me!" he told her. "It's not you they're after! You'll only get hurt if you stay with me!"

"Never! I won't leave you! Hey, I just had an idea!"

"Oh, God, no..."

"Tell you what, I'm going to distract that man who's right behind us, and you use that opportunity to shoot him, okay?"

"No, no, Bella, what are you going to? Don't—"

Bella ignored him and came to an abrupt stop, then turned on her heels and ran straight into the closest pursuer, all the while screaming bloody murder. The soldier was naturally surprised by this turn of events, and yet could still have easily fended her off, but since she was a woman, he hesitated and, in the end, couldn't stop her from crashing against him. Inwardly, Lovino was a little impressed. Outwardly, he shouted a vile curse and aimed the gun at the preoccupied soldier, his hand shaking and vision going slightly blurry at intervals. No, no time to let fear take over, he couldn't miss it, he needed to focus!

Just when he thought he was ready to shoot, Bella got in the way, the soldier struggling to get a hold on her.

"Get out of the way, damn it!" yelled Lovino.

"Get off, woman!" yelled the soldier at the same time, finally managing to grab her by the hair and shoving her to the ground.

The scene made Lovino's blood boil; that was no way to treat a lady! At once, his sight focused on his target and he pulled the trigger. The bullet didn't hit the man in any vital organs, only his leg, but it was more than enough to incapacitate him. Unfortunately, Lovino didn't even have the time to rejoice at this small victory, for the second pursuer had just caught up.

"Stop right there!" he shouted, aiming the gun at the man while Bella backed away, apparently unnoticed by the newcomer. "Don't move a muscle or I swear to God I'll shoot your fucking brains out, bastard!"

"You're bluffing," sneered the soldier. "I didn't see you reloading that gun. You don't have another bullet."

Lovino laughed. "You're the one who's bluffing! Just _try _and take a step closer if you want to bet your life on it, moron!"

Unperturbed, the soldier charged full-force.

_Well, shit._

Lovino screamed, dropped the gun, and turned tail.

"Damn you, Antonio?" he wailed. "Where the hell are you? Come and help me, you bastard!"

Then, proving once again that he was too useless to even run for his life, he tripped and fell face-first on the ground. Well, even if this hadn't happened, it would have been a matter of time – very little time, in fact – until he was caught. He looked at that brute of a man standing over him, cackling at how pathetic and helpless his prey must look, and screamed again.

However, the man's laughter was cut short when the gun Lovino had been holding previously came flying out of nowhere and hit him on the head. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell forward limply. Lovino yelped in shock.

"Wow, I did it!" said Bella, joining Lovino once again. "I just threw the gun at his head and I actually hit him! Wasn't that great, Lovino—My God, Lovino, you look like you're about to pass out! Are you all right?"

He shook his head to clear it. "Let's get out of here before these two bastards come to, or before their reinforcements arrive!" he shouted, struggling to get back on his feet. Bella began to say something, but Lovino didn't want to hear it; he just grabbed her hand – firmly, but not painfully – and dragged her along as fast as his wobbling legs would allow him.

oOo

Antonio's plan to fight off the three men after him one by one had worked rather well. Really, these guys weren't that strong, or even that smart. So, after taking care of them, Antonio went off in search of his two stray friends. It was a little difficult without a horse. He eventually found two unconscious, bleeding men, one of them lying next to Natalia's gun, but there was no sign of either Lovino or Bella anywhere. Still, Antonio was sure he could find them soon. Without a horse, how far could they get?

Apparently, he had once again underestimated Lovino's talent for running away from danger. He wished he could shout out their names to make his search easier, but given Lovino's reaction when Bella had tried this exact method earlier, Antonio gave up on the idea and resigned himself to doing it the hard way.

About two hours later, he found them in a small, relatively secluded clearing. Quite a good hiding place. He was immensely relieved to see that Bella was unharmed, but his relief was short-lived, as Lovino seemed to be in an even worse condition than before this ambush. He had grown ominously quiet again, and wasn't alarmed in the least when Antonio announced that they were staying right here till tomorrow – two hours ago, he would have insisted on going on lest they were found again. To make matters worse, they had lost their horse and almost all their provisions.

Their only meal consisted of fruits that Antonio had found nearby – he dared not leave the other two alone to hunt – and some bread that Bella had fortunately kept in her bag during the whole ordeal. Lovino was the only one who didn't eat at all, claiming that it would only make him sick, despite his friends' objections that he needed to eat something. Then, as night fell, they made themselves as comfortable as possible on the ground, around the fire that Antonio built. There was only one cloak – Bella's – which Lovino had insisted Bella wore. She complied, at least until he fell asleep, then she tiptoed over to him and carefully covered him with the cloak.

As Bella, too, fell asleep soon afterwards, Antonio kept watch almost the entire night, praying that things would get better the next day.

* * *

**A/N:** A short chapter, but it needed to end here. Oh, and those were the first hints of Conquistador!Spain. I love that side of him.


	5. The Suspicious Samaritan

**– CHAPTER 5 –**

_**The Suspicious Samaritan**_

Antonio liked to see the good side of things, so he reserved part of his thoughts to being grateful that, despite the less than ideal conditions in which they had slept throughout the night, both Bella and himself were quite healthy in the following morning. A bit tired and sore, maybe, but that was it. Lovino, on the other hand, had come down with a fever. In retrospect, Antonio should have seen that coming; he had noticed that something had been wrong with Lovino since he had rescued him from Natalia.

"Maybe he has an infection?" suggested Bella, her voice tremulous with worry. "From his wound?"

"I don't know. It doesn't _look_ infected to me," replied Antonio after re-examining said wound. He sat back down with a sigh. "Then again, I'm no doctor. You know, this would never have happened if we had just gone to Father Vinicius in the first place!"

"Shut the fuck up, you annoying bastard. Leave me alone," moaned Lovino, one arm slung over his eyes. Antonio was mildly surprised by the response; he had thought Lovino was either unconscious or too tired to speak.

"Lovino! Watch your language!" he scolded him, with a glance at Bella. "I thought you always made a point of not cursing in front of a lady."

"To hell with it. I'm just so fucking tired of everything," was the monotonous, sluggish reply.

Antonio sent Bella an apologetic look. "Don't mind him. I think he's delirious."

Bella blinked and smiled. "It's okay. I don't mind. I understand that he must be feeling very frustrated right now."

Antonio heaved another sigh. "He's not the only one," he murmured and lowered his gaze to his friend's motionless form, feeling his heart clench once again. He could barely stand to see him like this. Although he did feel a little jealous when Bella showered Lovino with attention while completely forgeting about Antonio's existence, Lovino was still the most important person in the whole wide world to him, and he hated to see him sick or in pain. It reminded him of their childhood, on the occasions when Lovino had been very sick and bedridden, but back then, Antonio had been reassured by people who knew what they were doing that his young friend would soon be all right. Now, he couldn't have that reassurance. It made Antonio feel helpless and scared, which he wasn't used to at all. The thought that Lovino probably felt even more helpless and scared only added another stab of pain to his heart.

Too distraught to sit quietly any longer, he stood up and began to pace. "I have to _do_ something! Staying put like this won't get us anywhere. We need food, proper food, and... a horse, maybe. A doctor would be great, too."

"Well, one of those can be found in the woods, at least," Bella pointed out. "You could go and get us something to eat. Hey, maybe you could catch a rabbit! You do know how to make rabbit traps, right?"

"Bella, I can't just leave you two alone! It's too dangerous!"

"It's okay. I'll keep watch."

Antonio sputtered. Bella had a knack for saying some really absurd things; it was rather disconcerting. "_You_ will keep watch? How are you going to protect yourself and Lovino if you're attacked by armed soldiers or—or wild animals? You don't have a gun any more!"

Bella laughed, as if Antonio were a silly child afraid of the dark. "It's been pretty quiet since yesterday. I think we can handle ourselves for one hour!"

Antonio considered that for a few minutes. Indeed, what were the chances that, after so many hours of utter peace, they would get attacked the moment they lowered their guard? It would be _too_ unlucky! No one was that unlucky, right? Unless they were cursed, which Antonio didn't believe they were, despite the recent developments.

"All right," he finally acquiesced, albeit still a little reluctant, "but I'm leaving this sword with you."

"But how will you hunt without a weapon?" she asked, even as she clumsily took it from his hand.

"Don't worry, I'll manage somehow. I might make a rabbit trap, like you said. I'll think of something. Just—take care of yourself, and Lovino, too."

"You can count on me!" said Bella with an attempt at a serious, determined expression that looked rather cute on her.

oOo

After almost an hour, Antonio began to suspect that he would never catch a woodland animal, either because of his own lack of ability in hunting or because there just weren't animals around these parts that were big enough to make a decent meal. Before Antonio knew it, he was back to the road.

He would have left it and gone back into the woods – after all, if animals were scarce enough in there, out here they would be even more unlikely to be found – but then he saw that there was someone riding a horse on the road, heading in the direction of Monterosso. Antonio kept himself hidden, but continued to watch the stranger until they were close enough.

It was a young man, blond hair, large built, a stern expression on his pale face. With his complexion and the rigid, proud way he carried himself, one might have taken him for a nobleman. However, his clothes weren't even remotely extravagant like one would expect from nobility. Then again, they looked very clean and nice, lacking a single spot or crease, so maybe this man _was_ quite wealthy, after all.

"Hey, you! Stop right there!" shouted Antonio, jumping out of his hiding place to stand right in front of the man's horse.

The man looked mildly surprised by the sudden appearance, as told by the almost imperceptible widening of his narrowed eyes and the slight deepening of his frown. He quickly recovered himself, though, and gave Antonio a level, neutral look.

"What can I do for you, sir?" his voice was as stern as his looks, deep and rough, his tone all business. He spoke with a slight accent that Antonio couldn't quite place at the moment.

"I demand that you hand over all your money, food, and your horse!" said Antonio, doing his best to sound fierce and dangerous.

The other man's frown deepened again.

"What if I refuse?"

"Then—then I'll have no choice but to take it by force! I have a sword, and I'm not afraid to use it!"

The long silence that ensued cracked Antonio's resolve just a bit.

"Sir, contrary to your claims, you do not have a sword. I, on the other hand, do," said the man, gesturing the sword that hung on his waist. "How do you intend to fight me all by yourself without a weapon?"

Antonio balked. He had forgotten he had left his sword with Bella. If he had known he would have had a chance at robbery, he would have kept it. Then again, he didn't know if he would be able to rob this guy, even if he had a weapon. Not because it felt wrong, but looking at this man more closely, he was pretty scary – brawny, with that rough voice that belonged to a merciless general, and the kind of face normally associated with cold-blooded assassins.

"Err... I'm so, so very sorry, my good man," he said, his resolve breaking rather than just cracking now. "But can you give me your possessions, anyway? It's really important, I swear!"

"Have a good day, sir," the stranger dismissed him and coaxed his horse forwards. Antonio leapt out of the way and stared after him for a moment. No, no, he couldn't let this chance get away so easily! He needed to do something, but what? He couldn't attack him...

He dithered for a moment longer and then ran to catch up with the man's horse, taking a hold of the man's arm and virtually dangling off it.

"Please, sir, you don't understand! I really need those things! I'm stranded in the woods without any food or water, with a delicate young lady and a friend who's really sick! We need your help!"

"Let go of me!" shouted the man, now quite flustered.

"Please, I swear to God I'm saying the truth! We've been lost for days, and I don't know what to do! I'm really afraid we're going to die! How can you leave us to such a horrible fate? Have you no heart, sir?"

The man's face turned red as a tomato. "Look, even if you are telling the truth, I do not have the time to help you. I am on a very important mission that I must complete as quickly as possible. I cannot afford to delay myself on the account of complete strangers. If you want, I can send word to the authorities in Monterosso that there is a group of people lost in the woods requiring assistance, after I find the person I am supposed to look for there. I—I am sorry, but that is all I can do for you and your friends."

"You're looking for someone in Monterosso?" Antonio blinked. He was still dangling from the man's strong arm, but at least the horse had come to a halt, so he wasn't being dragged along any more. "I'm from Monterosso! Who is it you're looking for? Maybe I can help you find them! And, in exchange, you could help me and my friends!"

The man seemed to hesitated, as if wondering if he really should trust a total stranger who also happened to be desperate, but, in the end, he gave in with a sigh. "The person I am looking for is Mr. Lovino Vargas."

At first, all Antonio could do was blink. Of all names he had been expecting to hear, that one had been near the bottom of the list. "Lovino? Lovino Vargas? Really?"

"Yes," said the man, a little uncertain. "I must bring him to my master."

Antonio felt cold at the sudden reminder that there were indeed quite a lot of people looking for Lovino at the moment. "Wait—wait a moment—you weren't sent by Natalia, were you?"

"Sir, I do not know anyone called Natalia."

"Her father, then? Any of the Russos?"

"My master has no children. And I do not know any Russo, either."

"Well, who is your master, then?"

"I am not authorized to disclose that information. I can assure you, however, that I have no ill intentions towards Mr. Vargas. Now, can you tell me about his whereabouts or not?"

Antonio considered him. If the man wasn't affiliated with the Russos, he couldn't really be a threat to Lovino, right? He had even said so himself!

"You won't believe it, sir, but Lovino Vargas is one of the friends I just told you about! He's with me!"

"You're right," said the man in a deadpan. "I don't believe you."

"No, it's true, Lovino is with me!" Antonio tugged at the man's arm, which didn't budge an inch. "Come on, I'll take you to him! Please! Pleeeease!"

"Fine!" barked the brawny man. "Fine, just make it quick. I really can't waste any more time!"

oOo

Lovino felt, to put it bluntly, like crap. He had been feeling that way ever since Natalia had whipped up that blasted gun and aimed it at his face. Actually, things had been going downhill for him ever since Antonio had knocked on Valentina's door that fateful morning. Being ambushed by a bunch of soldiers and then spending the night on the hard, dirty ground out in the open, with nothing but a thin cloak to protect him from the elements of nature, had not helped at all.

Nevertheless, after an extra nap, he felt a little better. Just a little bit. Enough for him to get up and act a little more like his normal self, at least, despite Bella's protestations that he should lie back down. Lovino tried to reassure her, claiming he wasn't sick, just tired. Because he really _wasn't _sick. He was just a little weak from exhaustion, anxiety (not fear), lack of proper meals, his injury, which hardly bothered him any more, anyway... He just couldn't _afford_ to be sick. Not when it was imperative that they reach the next town as soon as possible.

Stupid Antonio just had to go and slow them down, though. If he had stayed with Lovino and Bella, they could have already made some progress. What was the point of Lovino pulling himself together and get ready to travel despite feeling like crap, if Antonio was going to go off on his own for who knew how long?

"Damn it," he muttered to himself. "Where _is_ he?"

"He should be back in about half an hour, I think," said Bella. "I can't be too sure, though. Without a clock or the sun, I lose track of time easily."

"Half an hour," Lovino said under his breath, then repeated it out loud, "Half an hour! That's too long!" Rather than burst into another tirade, he fell silent and listened closely. For a moment there, he thought he had heard Antonio's voice. Bella seemed to have heard it, too.

"He's back! See? I told you it wouldn't be long till he came back!"

They both watched their cheerful friend come into the clearing, one with a welcoming grin and the other with an unimpressed frown. Then, both expressions morphed into alarm when an unknown, very strong, very scary-looking man emerged right after Antonio.

"Antonio! Who the hell is that guy?" Lovino demanded to know as he slowly backed away, his eyes never leaving the stranger. Oddly enough, said stranger was also staring back at him with a bizarre mix of disbelief and recognition in his cold eyes, which reminded him too much of Natalia's. Lovino shuddered; he didn't like the look of that man at all.

"Lovino, I met this guy on the road and he said he was looking for you!" said Antonio, as casual as if he were talking about the weather. "What a coincidence, right?"

"Of course he's looking for me! I'm a wanted man now, remember?" yelled Lovino. If Antonio hadn't been standing so close to that scary guy, Lovino would have moved to strangle him. Really, the depths of Antonio's idiocy never failed to astonish him.

"But he's not working for Natalia!" said Antonio, laughing Lovino's reaction off. "He said so!"

"And you _believed_ him? Just like that?"

"Why would he lie to me?"

A light cough interrupted their argument and all eyes turned to the strange man, who had recovered from his apparent initial shock and now wore a no-nonsense expression.

"I am sorry I doubted you. I can see that he is the one I have been looking for. Thank you for bringing me to him," he said to Antonio before addressing Lovino. "Mr. Lovino Vargas, I have received orders from my master to find you and bring you to him right away. Please come with me," he said, all business-like, and extended a hand to Lovino, who flinched and took a couple more steps back.

"Don't you dare touch me! Stay away from me, bastard!" He scoffed. "D'you think I'm stupid like that smiley moron over there? Even if you didn't work for the Russo, I'd never go with someone like you! I don't even know who you are!"

"You raise a good point," conceded the stranger, whose features slacked into a slight grimace, as if he were trying to smile and only managed to look even more frightening. "My name is Ludwig."

"That doesn't help at all! Shit, I should have guessed you were a goddamned northern outlander! I'm definitely not coming with you now!"

"Wait, what's wrong with being a northern outlander?" asked Antonio in puzzlement.

"I fucking hate them, that's what!"

"What? But—Why do you hate them?"

"I just hate them, okay?"

"You don't have to like me," said Ludwig, unperturbed, as if they hadn't been talking about him at all. "You only have to cooperate and let me take you to my master."

"And that's another thing," said Lovino. "If you're not working for the Russos, who _is_ your master? Huh?"

"I am not allowed to tell you. My master said you should only learn his identity when you meet face-to-face."

"You can't even be bothered to make up some lie about who your master is! And you expect me to trust you?"

"You don't really have a choice, do you?" said Ludwig, ridding himself of that sad attempt at looking nice and harmless and assuming a glowering frown that, if possible, made him look _even scarier_. It was obvious that his patience was running thin, and the thought of what he might do when he snapped almost made Lovino regret resisting. "You're stranded in the woods in very poor conditions and, from what I've gathered, there is someone powerful after you with the intent to cause you harm. You need to reach the next town, but you will never make it there without my help. I can help you. I am your only hope right now. I understand your misgivings – I would be wary, too, if I were you – but you will have to trust me if you want to get out of these woods alive."

Somewhere in the back of Lovino's mind, he had to admit that Ludwig – assuming that was really his name – had a point there. However, he could barely bring himself to consider the truth behind Ludwig's words, both because he didn't want them to be true and because this headache that had been slowly building up for quite a while had suddenly exploded and made it so hard to focus and think. All he knew was what his instincts told him; he didn't like this Ludwig character, didn't trust him, didn't believe for one moment that he meant him no harm. It was so obvious to him, so obvious that even the dumbest creature on Earth – namely, Antonio – should have seen it.

"Lovino, please, just think about it," said Antonio, drawing nearer carefully, like one would approach an injured, cornered beast – which wasn't far from how Lovino himself felt at the moment, come to think of it. "If this man really wanted to capture you or—k-kill you, he would have already done so! He wouldn't be wasting his time trying to convince us to trust him!"

Lovino would have argued about that, but a sudden wave of nausea struck and he dared not open his mouth. Even after the feeling passed somewhat, he found he had completely lost any inclination to talk. He shook his head instead, but regretted it immediately afterwards when it only served to make him dizzy. He also felt hot all over. His fever must be spiking again, he realised. Of all times for it to happen, why did it have to be at the worst possible moment?

"Lovino, I think maybe we should give him a chance," Bella said.

_Wonderful_, he thought. Now even Bella had chosen to side with that bastard. They were all against him. This was just typical. It had been this way way all his life; no one ever took his side. Even his own grandfather had always—

His train of thought was abruptly cut off when a strange, numbing sensation took hold of him, surrounding his whole body. Bella was still talking to him, but it sounded like gibberish. He wanted to ask her to repeat what she had just said more slowly, but those bright spots of light here and there were really distracting.

_Oh... shit._

Just as realisation was dawning on him, the lights became so bright that they completely overtook his fiend of vision and swept his thoughts away.

oOo

"Lovino? Lovino, are you listening to me? Are you all right?" Bella asked the unresponsive young man whose eyes had rapidly dulled into a glassy stare.

Antonio only had one second to realise what was going on and stiffen with dread. That look was all too familiar to him. So familiar, in fact, that when his friend's eyes rolled backwards and he collapsed to the ground, his whole body shaking and thrashing, Antonio's body moved of its own accord long before his mind registered it. One moment he had been standing several feet away, the next he was kneeling down next to Lovino, his hands holding him and turning him around so he was lying on his side.

In the mean time, Bella had started to scream and step back until she was next to Ludwig, who also looked rather alarmed and confused.

"What's that? Oh, God! What's wrong with him! Oh, God! Oh, God! What's going?" she asked shrilly, eyes wide in horror.

"C-calm—calm d-down—calm down—no n-need to p-p-panic—" stammered Antonio, shaking almost as badly as his friend. He would probably have had better luck convincing anyone if only he could take his own advice and pull himself together.

"Is he possessed? Is he _dying_?" Rather than calming down as suggested by Antonio, Bella seemed to be growing more and more hysterical. She whipped around and grabbed Ludwig by the front of his shirt. "Go fetch a priest or a doctor or both or someone quickly please can't you see he needs help please sir—"

"Bella, really!" shouted Antonio, this time succeeding in keeping his voice relatively steady. By now he had got to rest Lovino's head on his lap, like he had been taught to do many years ago. "It's okay! He's not dying and he's most definitely _not _possessed. It's just an attack of the falling sickness. It'll be over in a moment."

"Shouldn't we try to hold him down?" asked Ludwig uncertainly.

Antonio shook his head. "No. I used to think so, too, but he told me that it only makes it worse. He said I should just leave him be and make sure he doesn't hit his head," he tried to speak with that cool, professional voice that Father Vinicius would use in this kind of situation – it had never failed to comfort Antonio, even if just a little – but he was unsuccessful. Rather, he sounded as helpless and uncertain as he felt. It was no wonder that Bella burst into tears and began to sob on Ludwig's shoulder, the burly man awkwardly patting her back and looking completely out of his depth.

Despite his words about how they should stay put, Antonio itched to do something – anything – other than just sit here like an idiot. He wanted to get up and comfort Bella properly, since Ludwig was doing such a poor job of it. He wanted to hold Lovino down and _force _him to stop shaking, because watching this was too horrible and painful. He wanted to run back to Monterosso and ask Father Vinicius to make this all better. He wanted to go after Natalia and make her pay for causing his friend all this pain. He wanted to go back in time, back to his peaceful, carefree life in the monastery...

He also berated himself for not seeing this coming; he should have recognised the signs minutes ago. No, much longer than that. The malaise that had been afflicting Lovino since his confrontation with Natalia had probably been a prelude to this all along.

After what felt like an eternity, but had was probably only another minute or two, the spasms racking Lovino's body finally died down and he went limp. After making sure he was breathing and would be all right, Antonio breathed a deep sigh of relief and wiped sweat off his drenched forehead. "Thank God!" he exclaimed, directing his gaze skywards for a brief moment before it landed on the mildly disturbed Ludwig and Bella, who looked scarred for life.

"Wh-what—" Bella sobbed and sniffled, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "What now?"

"Now he'll sleep a lot and won't wake up even if Armageddon comes. B-but he's going to be all right!" he hurried to add when Bella let another heart-wrenching sob escape. Antonio smiled, because even if he wasn't happy all the time, as Lovino seemed to believe, he still took pride in being an optimist through and through. "Look on the bright side," he said, "at least now he won't struggle at all if Ludwig joins us and escorts us to the next town!"

oOo

Moving an unconscious Lovino was trickier than any of them had imagined. First of all, there was only one horse and they were a party of four, one of them being a lady. Like Antonio and Lovino earlier, Ludwig wasn't inclined to let Bella walk the whole trip, no matter how much she insisted she didn't mind walking. Be it as it may, they quickly came to the conclusion that someone would have to ride along with Lovino so he wouldn't fall off. Once that point was brought up, Bella immediately changed her mind and volunteered to support Lovino.

It was an awkward arrangement – even more so than before – but once she got the hang of it, Bella looked a little too happy to have Lovino leaning on her. Antonio considered this with mixed feelings, but he didn't have a better idea. Ludwig wasn't much happier with it, either.

"This is really troublesome. It'll take us too long to get anywhere on foot," he rumbled. "I told him. I _told _my master that I should come with a carriage, but he said no, said it would only slow me down. He never thinks things through!"

"Sounds like your master is very eager to see Lovino," remarked Antonio. "What's the hurry, anyway?"

All Ludwig did was shake his head, with a heavy sigh, to make it clear that he did not want to talk about this. Antonio could be wrong, but he suspected this reticence wasn't only due to an order to keep his master's identity a secret, but also because he didn't approve of his master's reasons in the first place. Every time his master was mentioned, Ludwig assumed this look of profound frustration and dismay. Antonio reckoned that possibly his master was a rather eccentric man. That made Antonio even more curious about him.

"By the way," said Antonio when he remembered another thing he had been wondering for a while, "how come you were so sure this was the person you were looking for the moment you saw him? You didn't want to believe me when I told you."

"I was given a physical description of him, and he matched it perfectly," was Ludwig's only answer. Antonio wanted to ask him to elaborate a little more, but Ludwig cut him off, "At any rate, we cannot continue our journey to my home town in these conditions. I propose we head to this little village to the east. It is off our course, but not far from where we are, and it should give Mr. Vargas a chance to recuperate. I will also buy more horses for our party so that we can make our trip faster when we resume it to make up for the time we have lost here."

"Sounds like a plan!" said Antonio, nodding in approval and relief that they had finally found someone sensible who knew what he was doing. He had known from the beginning that this Ludwig fellow was reliable and practical; it was written all over his intimidating face. "We'll do whatever you think is best."

"I just hope we're not attacked again," said Bella.

"Attacked?" Ludwig tensed ever so slightly and looked at Antonio. He just looked at him, not even having to say anything to make it clear that he demanded an explanation and that Antonio would provide a satisfying one if he knew what was good for him. Antonio laughed nervously.

"Yeah, that's how the three of us wound up lost in the woods. We were attacked by this group of men and we lost our horse in the confusion."

"Robbers?"

"Nah, soldiers. They were hired by the Russos. You see, Lovino got into trouble with—"

"Antonio!" Bella interrupted him chidingly. "If he won't tell us anything about his master, we shouldn't tell him anything about Lovino, either. Not without his consent, at least. It's only fair, right?"

"If your friend is a fugitive and someone is going to attack me to get to him, then I have the right to know," argued Ludwig. "I _need_ to know, so that I can protect you all."

"No one is going to attack us again," said Antonio. Not that he knew it for a fact, but he believed that if he really wished for something to happen and repeated it out loud often enough, it would eventually come true. That was true to his optimistic nature. Lovino was a pessimist, and look where it had got him! They had to think positive if they wanted to make things work out for them.

oOo

Antonio's faith must have paid off, because they were not attacked at any moment on their way to the village of Pontebianco. It had been a very short trip, true to Ludwig's word, but it still hadn't helped Lovino's condition at all and he had yet to wake up. Fortunately, the priest at local church agreed to grant them asylum for as long as they needed. They even prepared for him a mattress on a more secluded part of the church to make him as comfortable as possible and rest at ease.

"I thought you said he would only sleep for a few hours," said Bella to Antonio. "It's been almost a day!"

"Well, normally, he would wake up after a couple of hours or so," he replied. "But there's something wrong with him."

"Of course there's something wrong with him!" she snapped, making Antonio flinch.

Bella suddenly realised she was losing her temper and coming very close to yelling in a church. She turned to look at Ludwig, who seemed to be surprised and disconcerted to be the sudden target of her glare.

"Sir, can you excuse us for a moment? I'd like to have a word with Antonio in private," she requested, trying to be as polite as possible. With a nod, he marched out of the room, seemingly all too glad to get away from them. When Bella turned back to Antonio, he looked like he was bracing himself for a beating, which was just silly, for Bella was neither violent nor strong enough to even scratch a man like Antonio.

With a disappointed sigh, her features softened and she took a step closer to him, her hands on her hips.

"Antonio, how long have you known about this sickness of his?" she demanded to know.

"Oh!" Antonio seemed to relax a little when no yelling or beating was forthcoming. "Well, I guess he'd been feeling a little under the weather since Natalia almost killed him."

Bella paled at the knowledge that Lovino had come so close to death. She had been aware of the dangerous situation he was in, but not the full extent of it. And how could Antonio talk about it in such a casual tone of voice?

She shook her head, determined not to let her mind stray off the topic and scare herself even more.

"Don't play dumb with me!" she huffed. "I meant the _other _sickness—what did you call it? The falling sickness? You must have known about it for some time!"

Antonio scratched the back of his head, reluctant to speak.

"Well, yeah, I've always known. Ever since he was a kid."

"I've known you both since we were children, too! How come neither of you ever told me?"

"Well, it's not the kind of thing you bring up in casual conversation. And I guess he didn't think it was necessary to tell you," said Antonio, with a shrug that only added insult to injury.

"Not necessary? Of course it's necessary! What if you hadn't been around when that happened! I wouldn't have been able to help him! Because I'd have no idea what was wrong or what I could do to help!"

"I know!" he sighed, growing as exasperated as Bella. "But he doesn't like to talk about it! He hates it when I even mention it to him in private! Besides, he was supposed to be cured!"

"Well, he's obviously not!"

Antonio grimaced and shook his head. "Don't even remind me. He's going to be _devastated_ when he wakes up and hears about it. I'm just praying that this was an isolated case brought on by all the stress and fear and that it won't go back to being a regular thing."

Bella's heart lurched at the thought that the horrible scene she had witnessed in the woods, such a a terrible, cruel affliction, could be a _regular_ occurrence. Going through it once must have been bad enough, but regularly? And he had been suffering from it since childhood? Bella still couldn't believe she had been kept ignorant about it all these years. She had always considered both Lovino and Antonio two of her closest friends, and she had naturally assumed they felt the same way about her. Yet they couldn't even trust her with something as important as this.

"Umm. If that's all, I'm going to get us some food, okay?" said Antonio, inching towards the door. Bella didn't pay him any attention, still lost in her thoughts.

oOo

Bella and Antonio took turns looking after Lovino, and the priest also offered assistance whenever he had the time. Ludwig mostly kept watch outside, making sure there was no one lurking around the church that might pose a threat. Occasionally, he would drop by to check on them, looking more and more distressed every time. Surely he was anxious to go home and get this job over with.

Lovino had been mostly quiet all this time. It was now Bella's turn to watch over him and she was about to doze off when she heard Lovino stir and moan. She jerked awake and leant closer to him, wondering if he was finally waking up.

It turned out to be quite the opposite, though. If anything, he looked worse than before, mumbling incoherently and shaking his head restlessly. Bella brushed a few strands of hair over his clammy forehead and felt how he was burning up. Alarmed, she fetched some cool water, where she dipped a cloth, and pressed it to his face. It didn't seem to help much at first.

"G-Grandpa... Grandpa..." he whimpered, and Bella watched in horror as a few tears trailed from his eyes. A feeble yet heart-wrenching sob escaped his mouth. "Grandpa... I'm so... sorry..."

"Lovino..." she whispered sadly and leant a little closer again.


	6. Recollections and Confessions

**A/N:** Conquistador!Spain finally makes an appearance! Oh, and we _all _know who's Ludwig's master, right? That wasn't really supposed to be a mystery, so I'm not surprised. So, for those who of you who would like an actual puzzle to stimulate your minds, I have come up with this little challenge: can you guess why the towns in this story have those names? There is a meaning behind them. It's not important to the plot; it was just a bit of fun I had.

Anyway, thank you very much for the reviews! They are greatly appreciated!

* * *

– **CHAPTER 6 –**

_**Recollections and Confessions**_

"How's this, Grandpa?"

"Very good, Feliciano! I can already tell you're going to be a brilliant artist when you grow up. No, sooner than that! You'll be a brilliant artist by the age of ten! Just like your old grandpa! I'm blessed to have such a talented heir."

A giggle. "Thanks, Grandpa! I love you!"

"Oh, dear boy! Grandpa loves you, too!"

Lovino turned to watch his twin and his grandfather hug each other. It was almost disgusting, the way Feliciano acted like a perfect little angel and Grandpa fawned over him. They were always together, those two. Always sitting side by side – when Feliciano wasn't sitting on Grandpa's lap – laughing together, praising each other's artistic skills, holding each other... and completely forgetting about Lovino's existence. As if Lovino didn't matter at all just because he wasn't as good at painting as his twin.

Or as cute. Grandpa was always cooing at Feliciano, "You're so cute! So very cute!" just like everyone who set eyes on Feliciano. But no one ever said the same about Lovino, which didn't make a lot of sense. They were _twins_; they looked almost identical! What was so special about Feliciano, appearance-wise? Not that Lovino wanted to be doted on like his brother, but he deserved _some_ recognition, too! Fine, so he wasn't good at painting. Whatever. He had other strong points. He was pretty good at... well... umm...

Oh, to heck with it! He would just have to try harder at painting.

Wiping at his eye, he turned back to the canvas in front of him and painstakingly finished what he considered his masterpiece so far. He had spent days working on this one, put his best efforts into it. Now it was finally done and he pulled away a little to gaze at the result of all his dedication. It didn't look as amazing as Feliciano's works, but it was a huge improvement from Lovino's previous works and he was very proud of it. Even Grandpa would have to see how good it was and offer some sincere praise for once.

He leapt off his stool and dragged the small canvas over to his grandfather, who didn't notice his presence at first. Lovino stood there for a minute, waiting to be noticed. When it didn't happen soon enough, because Grandpa was too busy giving Feliciano some feedback on his latest work, Lovino grabbed a fistful of his grandfather's trousers and tugged insistently.

"Grandpa! Grandpa, look! I made another painting!" he said, and even then it took him another minute to catch Grandpa's attention.

"What? What? Oh, yes, yes, let me see!" With a small smile, Grandpa took Lovino's painting in his wrinkled hands and considered it for a moment with an unreadable expression. Lovino fidgeted a little. Grandpa hummed as if impressed and smiled down at his grandson. "_Very_ good, Lovino! Keep practising," he said, patting Lovino's head, and handed the canvas back to him before returning his full attention to Feliciano's painting.

"That's it?!" Lovino shouted in disbelief. "'Keep practising!' Is that all you have to say?"

His words fell on deaf ears. Both Grandpa and Feliciano just continued talking excitedly about that accursed painting. Lovino stood on the tips of his toes and managed to take a look at what Feliciano had drawn. Even though it had been a brief peek, he could see it was absolutely stunning.

"Damn it! I hate you!" he burst out and ran off with his canvas, warm tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.

He only came to a halt outside the house, in the garden. He held the canvas before him and cringed at the picture that had made him so proud only two minutes ago. Now he could barely look at it without feeling shame. It just stared back at him, mocking him. He threw it at the ground and stomped on it, set on destroying what he had worked so hard to make. Seeing the ruined image of his failure gave him both a sick, vindictive satisfaction and remorse.

xxx

"An orphanage? You're just going to leave me here?!" Lovino took a few ragged breaths. "What about Feliciano? You're not going to bring him here, are you? You just want to get rid of me! You've always wanted to do this! You want to keep Feliciano and get rid of me! You're finally admitting you love him more! Y-you—you don't love me at all, really!" he sobbed.

"Now, Lovino, you know that is not true," said Grandpa. That had always been his response to these accusations in the past, always delivered in a calm yet chiding tone of voice. This time, however, the old man just sounded terribly tired and maybe even sorrowful. Lovino saw this, and it gave him hope that, this time, his grandfather was actually being sincere.

"Then _why_?" he asked. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Lovino, I'm too old and feeble. I can't take care of you the way you need any more. You have to admit you're quite a handful," he said the last part with a frail smile, as if trying to lighten up the mood with a joke. It had the opposite effect, though, for Lovino did not appreciate jokes at his expense. Hearing about how old and sick his grandfather felt didn't help Lovino feel any better, either. With a sigh, Grandpa added, in a more serious tone, "Really, Lovino, Grandpa can barely take care of himself, let alone a child. These people will give you proper care."

"Can barely take of yourself, you say? And yet you're keeping Feliciano! He's a handful, too, don't even try to deny it! He can't do a single thing on his own!"

"Indeed, it will be very hard for the both of us, but we'll look after each other. Feliciano is different. There are still things I need to teach him. You, on the other hand... There is nothing else I can do for you. I would only give you grief."

"I-I could help take care of you! I'm not totally useless!"

"No, Lovino. You're staying here."

"Why?! I can help you!" Met with silence and that unreadable gaze again, Lovino struggled to understand and could only come up with one explanation. "Y-you think I'm nothing but a burden, is that it? I knew it all along! And you can't even say it to my face! You're trying to make it look like you're doing this for my sake, but it's really because you can't even admit that you wish I hadn't been born in the first place! I bet you hate looking at me, right? I must look like a mockery imitation of Feliciano to you! Isn't that right?"

Each word was like a stab at his own heart, and he wanted to stop them – he didn't even know why he was saying them, having always kept them buried safely away in his mind – but he just couldn't stop and it _hurt_. He looked at his grandfather, expecting – _begging_ – him to say it was not true, because at this point even a lie would be better than a raw, ugly truth. However, all his grandfather did was look at him with a deep sadness that Lovino had never seen in those eyes. His grandfather looked like he had just got a hundred years older and the weight of the whole world had fallen on his shoulders.

"You're not even trying to deny it!" he wailed. He shouldn't have felt so disappointed, shouldn't have hoped things would be different this time. He had always got disappointed in his grandfather, just like Lovino had always disappointed him in turn. But it hurt, hurt so much that he tried to alleviate it the only way he knew how, by turning his disappointment into anger. "I hate you! I hate you more than anything in the world! Just go back to your precious Feliciano, see if I care! I don't need you! I don't want to see you ever again! You can go to hell for all I care, you old bastard!"

Even after he turned away from his grandfather and ran off, wanting to get as far away as possible from the man who was abandoning him, the image of his grandfather's heartbroken face remained imprinted on his mind and continued to haunt him for years to come.

xxx

"Lovino!" came the overjoyed squeal, and before Lovino could register whose voice it was, he was caught in a suffocating embrace. "I'm so happy to see you! I missed you so, so, so much!"

"Feliciano?!" Lovino choked and struggled out of his twin's hold. "What the hell are you doing here? I haven't seen you in... _ages_! Where's Grandpa?"

Feliciano's bright, angelic face fell. "H-he... he's gone to heaven."

"What?! You mean he's dead?!"

A sad nod from Feliciano, and then his joyful smile was back and Lovino found himself once again surrounded by his brother's chubby arms. "That means we're going to live together again, Lovino! We'll see each other every day, just like the old times! Ahh, I missed you so much!"

"B-but—but—Grandpa can't be dead!" stammered Lovino, still in a state of shock. How could Feliciano recover from that kind of thing so quickly?

Feliciano was quiet for a moment, appropriately subdued. "I'm kind of glad he's gone."

Lovino was scandalized. "How can you say that?! He's Grandpa! He loved you, and you loved him! You were always together!"

"Ah, Lovino... You should have seen him in his last days. He was really sick and in a lot of pain. He rarely smiled any more. At least now he can rest in peace."

Lovino felt tears prickle at his eyes. So, Grandpa, the old man who had raised him, was gone for good. Lovino hadn't even got the opportunity to say goodbye or apologise for his hateful words from the last time they had met. Because they weren't true, as much as he wanted them to be true. Even though he deeply resented his grandfather for favouring Feliciano, he had still loved his grandfather, his only father figure.

"In his deathbed, he said he was sorry he failed you," said Feliciano, still in a subdued tone to match the gloomy mood Lovino found himself in.

Lovino didn't know how to feel about those last words. He was _sorry_? How did that make anything better? What was that even supposed to mean, anyway? Was he sorry that he hadn't given Lovino as much love and attention as he had given Feliciano, or was he sorry that he had failed to make Lovino as good as Feliciano? How typically vague and ambiguous of that slippery old man...

"It's not as bad as it sounds," said Feliciano, cheering up a little again. "Grandpa told me about what a _wonderful _place heaven is! And he said that someday we'll see each other there! Wouldn't that be great?"

"Shut up!" Lovino snapped. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! You're as big a liar as he was! The both of you, you just keep saying things you don't mean to make me feel better, just so _you_ can feel good about yourselves!"

"What? What are you saying? I just—"

"And it's not fair that you got the chance to be with Grandpa till the end and say goodbye to him! What's so special about you, anyway? You're an idiot! Yeah, maybe you're good artist, but you're no good at anything else! You're an annoying crybaby! And you're so naïve it hurts! Stupid!" Lovino had long stopped thinking about what he was saying; he just felt angry, so irrationally angry, and he needed to take it out on someone, make them suffer as much him. He shoved Feliciano away from him. "Get away from me! I don't want to have anything to do with you!"

"But... Lovino..." Feliciano whimpered, but respected his brother's wishes and didn't follow him when Lovino walked away.

It was much later that he realised why he had felt so angry and lost at that time. It was because, deep down, the thought that his last words to his dying grandfather had been so full of hate and so false, and that his words had probably only added to his grandfather's pain, was too unbearable for him.

xxx

Everyone loved Feliciano. The nuns at the orphanage just couldn't help but dote on him just like Grandpa had done. Again, Lovino wasn't as popular as Feliciano. However, he found it was a lot easier to be nice to the nuns than to his grandfather, and they loved him as well. They thought he was cute, even when he was being difficult. They still said things like, "Why can't you be more like your brother?" but they went easier on him than on the other children. One could even say they spoiled him. When he did something wrong, they either gave him a light scolding or just sighed and ignored it.

So, life in the orphanage hadn't been so bad. At least... until Sister Benedetta came to work at the orphanage. It was beyond Lovino how such a wicked woman had ever got to be a nun. She was one of those extremely strict people who admitted no transgressions and had very unpleasant methods to instil discipline. If she had been born a man, she – or rather, he – would probably have been a military officer, or a prison guard, or a torturer, or something along those lines.

The worst part was, she had a special dislike for Lovino, not only because he was, admittedly, an unruly child who refused to respect her and got away lightly when he did something wrong, but also because of his weakness. By this point, the falling sickness had already become a fact of life for him, and Sister Benedetta scorned it openly. Lovino didn't think that was very righteous of her, but then again, his opinion never mattered to her. The other nuns always tried to make her lighten up and be more lenient, to which she had grudgingly acquiesced. During the first years, her punishments had been relatively light, though Lovino didn't realise this until much later. One of her favourite punishments was forcing him kneel on maize in a corner.

However, one day, she caught him pickpocketing some oblivious sod on the street and dragged him back to the orphanage, skilfully avoiding attracting the attention of the other nuns. She locked herself up in a room with Lovino and came up to him holding a rattan cane.

"Hold out your hands, palms up," she ordered sharply. Lovino stood there, staring at the cane in trepidation. "Look at me!" she snapped, and he jerked up his head to obey her. "Do not try my patience, or you will only make things much worse for yourself. Now, hold – out – your – hands!"

"What—what are you going to do to me?" he asked, hating the way his voice trembled.

"Don't talk back to me, and don't make me repeat myself," she whispered, and her dark eyes promised that this would be a lot more painful and humiliating if he didn't obey. Swallowing, Lovino hesitantly held out his hands, even as he glared at her with defiance in his eyes.

_Whack!_

Lovino gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. That had hurt a lot more than he had been expecting, and Benedetta hadn't even needed to put any strength into it. His hands twitched, but he didn't draw back, and once the initial wave of pain diminished, he glared at her again, more viciously this time. If she expected him to scream or burst into tears and apologies, she was going to be sorely disappointed.

_Whack!_

A little more forceful this time. His hands twitched and began to withdraw a little on their own, but he forced them to stay there. He wouldn't let this witch break him with just a few cane strikes. He wouldn't let her terrorize him.

_Whack!_

Lovino hissed a curse, earning yet another, very forceful hit. He barely felt that last one, his hands still numb from the previous beating.

He wasn't sure how long this went on, but in the end, his hands were shaking uncontrollably and covered in bruises, and a few tears had escaped his eyes and left thin trails on his cheeks. He hated himself for it. He had been mostly silent all this time, save for a few hissed curses and gasps, but now his breathing was ragged and he was choking down whimpers. His resolve was almost breaking.

_Whack! Whack! Whack!_

A sob finally tore from his throat. He couldn't stand it any more. He felt sick and sore and he just wanted it to be over. "Oh, God, just make it stop!" he whispered, no longer caring how pathetic he looked.

"You know you deserve this."

He opened his eyes, but Sister Benedetta was no longer there. In her place was a young lady with silvery hair and a face like a doll's, a gun in her hand pointed directly at him. Lovino had a feeling of déjà vu. He knew this woman.

Remembrance suddenly hit him, along with the realisation that he was no longer a child; he was an adult, and he was married to this woman, this mentally disturbed, miserable woman whom he had betrayed and who now wanted him dead by torture.

"Na—Natalia..." he whispered, wondering if apologising would make any difference.

"You deserve this," she repeated, her voice oddly distorted, diabolical. "You deserve to burn in Hell for all your sins!"

Indeed, he was burning. There was fire everywhere, surrounding him in suffocating heat and pain. He felt his body shrivel as the flames lashed mercilessly at him, but he still didn't even lose consciousness. He didn't even have the energy to scream; he just moaned in agony, his head thrashing back and forth on the ground – when had he fallen over? – trying to summon words of prayer to his lips, but they escaped him like water running through his fingers.

_Please, God! Please just make this stop!_ he mentally begged over and over, even though he knew, deep down, that no mercy was forthcoming, nor did he deserve any. When he managed to crack his eyes open again, neither Natalia not Sister Benedetta where anywhere to be seen. He was completely and utterly alone in his torment. Although the pain did not diminish at all, he slowly stopped moving and just let the flames continue to engulf him. In the far distance, well above him, he thought he could see his grandfather's face, no longer tired but still sorrowful, those infinitely sad eyes quietly gazing at him with a mixture of pity and regret.

"G-Grandpa... Grandpa, help me... please," he begged him, not even sure if the words were coming out of his mouth or if they were only formed in his mind. He tried to reach up with his hand. "Grandpa... I'm so... so sorry... I'm—" his breath hitched. "I don't hate you! P-please... forgive me..."

His grandfather frowned and shook his head.

"You deserve this," he seemed to say. He then turned away and slowly vanished.

"No! No, no, please... Grandpa... don't leave me! Don't leave me!"

"Lovino..."

"Don't leave all alone again..." he sobbed.

"Lovino, open your eyes."

He did so, suddenly aware of a new voice. It was a female voice, but it wasn't anything like Natalia's or Sister Benedetta's. This one was deep, warm, affectionate. For a long while, all he could see was a bright light, but the longer he stared at it, the more it seemed to take shape. A young woman made of white light descended from where his grandfather's form had disappeared, smiling down at him. As she approached and held him in her ethereal arms, the flames around him died down, the coolness emanating from her soothing his burnt body.

God, she was absolutely beautiful! Not attractive like the girls he had flirted with, for she didn't even have a body or defined features in the first place. She was divinely beautiful, like the angels in his brother's and his grandfather's paintings. An angel. A true angel.

"Shh... It'll be all right," she told him, her cool hand brushing against his forehead like a feather. He watched her, entranced and basking in the peace she offered him. He felt as though he knew her, since a long, long time ago...

"Mother?" he whispered, or at least tried to. She rested a slender finger on his lips, gently shushing him again.

"Just rest, my dear," she told him. Just as he had been swallowed by hot flames a moment ago, he now found himself enveloped by her divine light, which numbed his pain and allowed him to sink into bliss. Never in his life had he felt so safe and loved.

Her hands ghosted over to his face, cradling his jaw. He opened his eyes just a little, idly noting how she seemed to become more and more solid the longer she stayed there. Her face drew closer, her eyes sliding shut, and her thin lips touched his. The motherly angel was _kissing_ him! His eyes opened wide in shock...

... and he found himself lying on a lumpy mattress in a candle-lit room, his face a few inches away from a slightly guilty-looking Isabella.

xxx

Bella hurriedly pulled away from Lovino, her blush evident even in the ill-lit room. Alarmed and confused, Lovino wanted to sit up so he could take in his surroundings, but he couldn't summon the energy to do so. He felt sore all over, as if he had just been trampled by a whole horse-riding battalion, but his head hurt most of all. He had no idea where he was and no recollection of what had happened to him. Only what he now realised had been a dream was still vivid in his mind, but he tried to push it aside and focus on the real world.

"Where am I?" he asked after a few failed attempts to articulate coherent words and then sentences. "What happened? What were you doing? What time is it?"

"Y-you're in a small church in the village of Pontebianco," she said. "Ludwig brought us here after you passed out."

"Who is Ludwig? Why would anyone bring us to this place?" he asked, still feeling very lost. "And why did I pass out? What _happened_?"

"Y-you don't... you don't remember?" asked Bella, now giving him a rather worried look.

"If I remembered, I wouldn't be asking you, now would I?" he snapped, and regretted it immediately when Bella blushed and lowered her head in shame.

"You had an attack of the falling sickness," she whispered, subdued. "That's what Antonio told me."

Lovino's heart clenched and pumped ice-cold blood into his veins. He had had an attack? In front of _her_? But—he had been cured of it! The shock seemed to kick his memory into working again and recollections from before he had passed out came back to him in a rush. He remembered now, he was being chased by his bloodthirsty ex-wife for cheating on her, and then he, Antonio, and Bella had got lost in the woods after an assault, and then that suspicious bastard – Ludwig, was it? – had showed up and tried to take him to his master...

"And then we brought you here to recover," continued Bella. "You slept for days with a high fever... and you got delirious... you kept crying in your sleep... you talked a lot about your Grandpa."

He groaned and rolled over, half-covering his face, so that Bella couldn't look at him. He just kept jumping from one nightmare to another! On top of all that, he now felt overcome with shame and self-loathing. He would never live down this humiliation. There was no doubt in his mind that God was punishing him. That had to be it.

"Lovino, what's wrong?" he heard Bella's worried voice again. "Are you feeling unwell again?"

"Why do you even care?" he asked bitterly. Again, he regretted his words the moment they were out of his mouth, because he didn't even have to look at Bella to know he had hurt her. He sighed. She didn't deserve to be the outlet for his anger. "You've seen the darker side of me. How spiteful, rude, selfish, and unfaithful I really am. I've even taken my anger out on you, when you did nothing but treat me with kindness. And now you've seen how weak and pathetic I am. I'm worthless and disgusting. So why should you care about me? Why do you even bother?"

"Don't say that," she said, her trembling finger caressing his cheek and gently coaxing him to meet her gaze. "No one is perfect! We all have our flaws and weaknesses. We all make mistakes and have bad days. I won't think any less of you for it! Even the falling sickness—"

He flinched and jerked away from her touch.

"I don't need your pity!" he barked. Bella withdrew her hand as if it had got burnt. By now, Lovino finally managed to sit up. "Just go away! Leave me alone, damn it!"

"But I love you," she whispered, her words barely audible.

Lovino froze. Once again, that declaration left him without reaction, which Bella took as an opportunity to close the gap between them and lock their lips in a chaste, sweet kiss that lasted for about three seconds. As if that gesture and the closeness to such a pretty face provoked an instinctive reaction on him, he leant forward for another, deeper kiss, until reason came back to him and made him hesitate. This was wrong! He didn't feel aroused or passionate at all about this kiss. It was like kissing his mother, or his sister. For God's sake, she was five years older than him! Not to mention it also felt as though he were betraying Antonio. What would Antonio think if he barged in right this moment and caught his best friend and the object of his affection kissing each other like this?

He held her by the shoulders and pulled away, gently but firmly.

"I'm sorry, but I don't feel that way about you," he said. Not that she felt that way about him, either. She was just a deluded girl with a silly crush. Someday, she would open her eyes and see how ridiculous this whole thing was. She was a good girl deep down and deserved someone much better, someone strong, brave and genuinely kind. Someone like Antonio.

Of course, he voiced none of those thoughts to her. It wasn't the right time for them.

"B-but—"

"Please, just leave me alone," he went on, with a quiet tone of finality. "I need to be alone for a while."

For one horrifying moment, he thought she was going to burst into tears and thus break his resolve. That would have been catastrophic, because not only would he feel even worse for hurting her feelings, he might also end up taking all his words back out of pity. Fortunately for him, Bella did not cry. She just stared at him for a minute, then said:

"All right. If that is what you want. Please excuse me." Her tone wasn't cold, but it certainly lacked its usual warmth. She stiffly stood up and left the room, her head down.

Lovino tried not to dwell on what had just transpired. He felt bad for her, honestly. He did like fooling around with pretty girls, but that did not mean he enjoyed breaking their hearts when they wanted to take their relationship to the next level, so to speak. He was confident that she would eventually get over it, though, so there was simply no point in worrying about it now. He had more important things on his mind.

With quite some difficulty, he managed to get up and remain standing, although he staggered a little at first due to a slight bout of dizziness. Once he felt steady enough to walk, he slowly, tentatively, left the room, keeping a wary eye open on his surroundings to make sure no one else was around. Bella had said this was a church, right? Just what he needed right now.

He soon found the altar of the church. The place was deserted, which was just as well. Facing the altar, he crossed himself and knelt down at one of the front benches to pray. It didn't help much, though. If anything, it only made him feel more wretched and worthless. The nightmare that he had had in his fevered sleep still haunted him. He suddenly wished Father Vinicius was here. The old man might have seemed a little stern and intimidating sometimes, but he had always listened when Lovino felt lost and needed to talk about serious issues. Always listened, unlike his Grandpa.

Oh... Thinking about his grandfather _definitely _didn't help.

He lifted his head, suddenly aware that he was no longer alone. A priest, old and serious like Father Vinicius, though certainly smaller and not as imposing, was at a respectable distance, watching him with a knowing look. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then, with a last pointed look at Lovino, the priest averted his gaze and slowly, almost casually – because the motion was really anything but casual – he headed to the confessional. After a second of hesitation, Lovino followed suit.

He knelt down again inside the confessional, glad for the screen that separated him from the priest. This was going to be hard enough without having to face him. Several minutes ticked by in complete silence as he gathered his thoughts and the courage to speak. Finally, he took a deep breath.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

xxx

Antonio was heading to the room where he had left Bella and Lovino. Lately, Bella had been pushing herself out of worry for Lovino; she was likely to be exhausted. It was about time for them to switch turns so that the girl could get some rest.

He was shocked, then, to find her sitting curled up on the floor, her back to the wall and face hidden in her crossed arms over her knees. Her shoulders shook and he was sure he could hear very faint sounds of muffled sobs.

"Bella! What happened? What are you doing here?"

She raised her head, revealing a reddened, tear-stained face that was like a punch to Antonio's stomach.

"Oh... Antonio..." she said between sobs and sniffles, taking a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you would come back this soon. I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

"Please, get off the floor!" he said, holding out a hand to help the distraught girl to her feet. "What on Earth is going on? Weren't you supposed to be watching Lovino? D-did something happen to—" His question, which had already been full of dread, trailed off when the mention of Lovino only caused a fresh torrent of tears to be shed.

"Oh, don't worry about Lovino. He's a little better now." She sniffled. "He even woke up."

"He's awake? But... that's good news, right?" Antonio's worry didn't diminish at all, however, because if Bella had been reduced to such a miserable state, something had to be horribly wrong. "What happened, then?" he prodded.

"Well... we talked. He couldn't remember anything at first and seemed pretty disoriented."

Antonio nodded. "Yeah, that's quite normal."

"And then... and then I told him that I love him."

"Oh..." Antonio had had the feeling this was going to happen sooner or later. He had suspected she had such feelings for Lovino, but he had naïvely hoped that it was something akin to the love that a sister would feel for her little brother, rather than a romantic sort of love. Now Antonio could kiss his chances with Bella goodbye. Unless... "What did he say, then?"

"H-he said—he said—" she began to sob again. "He said he doesn't feel the same way about me."

"Oh... I'm sorry," he said awkwardly, torn between feeling relieved that his chances weren't totally over and feeling bad for Bella.

The girl had fallen apart once again, now leaning on his shoulder. Antonio blushed and held her comfortingly.

"B-but, Antonio... He said some horrible things to me! Really horrible things!"

"What?! To _you_?"

"Yes!" She nodded against him, her blonde hair tickling his chin. "Horrible things!"

"Wh-what kind of things?!"

"Oh! I can't even bring myself to say it! It's still too painful! Every word he said was like a dagger to my chest..."

Antonio saw red.

"He shouldn't have done that!" he snarled.

He knew quite well how foul Lovino's mouth was. When he felt threatened – either physically or emotionally – he lashed out at innocent people, and he would often become quite vicious. Now that he was going through such a hard time, it was only to be expected that his temper would be even nastier than usual.

However, there was no excuse for this. Bella had confessed her love to him, offered him her bare heart, and he had _stomped_ on it! When he had needed to reject his flirts, he would always be as tactful and apologetic as possible, yet he acted this cruel towards the one girl who genuinely cared for him and had done everything in her power to help him, even going as far as leaving her home and her grandmother behind. This was unforgivable!

"Bella, please try to calm down. Will you be all right by yourself for a minute? I'm going to have a word with Lovino," he said in a low tone that sounded foreign even to his own ears. Bella was too upset to notice it, though, so she just nodded and mumbled something about going to get some water to wash her face.

Antonio barely registered her words; he marched to the room where Lovino had been resting for the past few days. It was empty. Well, no matter. He couldn't have gone too far. Antonio proceeded to search the church and soon found Lovino, who was just emerging from a confessional. Antonio's gaze locked on him, everything else obscured by a red haze. With a roaring curse, Antonio reared his arm back and punched Lovino in the face, knocking him off his feet. It all happened so fast that Lovino probably hadn't even known what hit him.

"Mr. Carriedo!" exclaimed the scandalized priest, who had also just left the confessional. "There will be no violence in the House of God!" He knelt down to aid Lovino, who was sitting up and cradling one side of his face, a dull glare trained on Antonio. "Moreover, how can you hit your friend, who is still weak and recovering from a serious illness?"

"I'm sorry, Father," he said, mostly sincere. He did regret losing his temper like that on holy ground, though he didn't feel too sorry for hitting Lovino, weak state or not.

"What the hell was that for, asshole?!" Lovino yelled at him once he was back on his feet and completely ignored the priest's chiding exclamation at his inappropriate language.

"Let's take this outside," said Antonio, feeling a little calmer now.

"So that you can continue what you just started and beat the crap out of me? I'm not that stupid!"

"Oh, for God's sake, I'm not going to hit you again," said Antonio, a little embarrassed. It wasn't as though he was some kind of violence-loving maniac. "I just want to talk to you. Alone," he added with a glance at the priest, who gave him a reproachful look but obediently stayed behind while Lovino warily followed Antonio outside.

"Well, what the hell is this all about, then?" asked Lovino, ever so petulant. "Make it quick. I don't have all day."

"It's about Bella?"

"Hm? What about her?"

Antonio took a moment to just stare at him, unable to believe it. How could Lovino act so casual, as if he had done nothing wrong?!

"You complete and utter bastard!" he exclaimed, though astonishment still coloured his tone. "Just—Who the hell do you think you are?"

Lovino was visibly taken aback, with good reason. Antonio didn't usually get down to Lovino's level and start swearing and calling people names, even if they deserved it. It was a sure sign that Antonio was truly furious, as opposed to vexed or upset.

"What's your fucking problem?!" snapped Lovino, clearly trying to match Antonio's mood with his own usual prickliness, but failing quite badly. He seemed to be mentally and physically drained, with dark rings under his dulled eyes, and rather than look threatening, he just looked tired and confused. Antonio would have felt sorry for him, but the memory of Bella weeping, her heart shattered into pieces by Lovino, stomped on any and all sympathy Antonio might have felt.

"As if you didn't know! She was crying so hard she could barely talk, and she told me it's all because of what you said to her!"

Lovino's pallid face immediately reddened at that and he sputtered. "Well, I didn't _mean _to make her cry, but I had to tell her the truth! It was a necessary thing!"

"Necessary?! I think it was _quite_ possible for you to be honest with her without being cruel! You're such an expert, smooth heart-breaker, after all!"

"Look, it's not like I enjoy it!"

"Oh, right! You just _can't help_ your nasty temper, can you?" Antonio sneered. "You _need_ to hurt other people before they hurt you, right?"

"Asshole," Lovino said dully, probably to give himself time to come up with a wittier comeback. "I did what I had to do and I swear to God I tried to be as gentle as possible. No, I didn't tell her the things I'd tell any other girl, because I didn't want to giver her any false hopes. If she's crying that hard because of it, it's her damn fault for being a sappy, over-sensitive brat!"

"How dare you! How dare you talk that way about her and say such outrageous lies with a straight face? Bella told me—she told me you said horrible things to her! Horrible, unspeakable things!"

"What the fuck?! I did no such thing! I only told her I wasn't interested and that I wanted to be alone for a while, damn it! That's all!"

"Are you calling her a liar?" Antonio whispered, that dangerous red haze beginning to obscure his vision once again. He stepped forwards so that he and Lovino were only a few inches apart, accentuating the difference in height between them. Just let Lovino try to say it to his face!

"Yes! Yes, if that's what she told you, then she's a big fat liar!" Lovino spat, not seeming to be intimidated in the least even when Antonio was looming over him with such a threatening aura.

With a growl, Antonio grabbed the shorter man by the front of his shirt and drew his arm back for another punch. This time, Lovino fought back, giving as good as he got; he wasn't much of a fighter, but he would be damned if he took any more abuse without even trying to defend himself. What he lacked in strength, stature, and skill, he made up for with feistiness.

"I'm so tired of your attitude! Why do you always have to be such a jerk to everyone?!" Antonio yelled, aiming a kick at Lovino's stomach while holding him in place by grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling it.

"Yeah, well, I'm fucking sick of _your_ attitude! Why do you have to act so goddamn happy and stupid all the time! At least now you're showing your true colours, you two-faced bastard!" Lovino yelled back while he flailed and kicked and punched almost blindly, actually managing to land quite a few hits.

"You're one to talk! Always leading those poor girls on—"

"At least I never pretended to be their friend only to betray them when they thought they could trust me the most!"

If Antonio were in his normal frame of mind, he would have realised this was as close as Lovino would ever get to admitting he considered Antonio his best friend and that he trusted in him. Right now, however, he just didn't care.

"What about Bella, then?" he said, finally succeeding in pinning Lovino to the ground. "She thought you were her friend and that she could trust you! She sacrificed so much to help you, she left her home and her grandmother behind, just to help you, and what did you do to repay her? You broke her heart, insulted her, and God knows what else!"

"Goddammit, Antonio, I've told you I didn't do anything to hurt her! She's lying! I bet she planned all this! She must have manipulated you into beating the crap out of me just to get back at me for rejecting her! Shit! Get off me, you heavy bastard!" Lovino managed to knee him in the gut, but Antonio didn't let him go.

"Even now, you're still lying and saying horrible things about her! I can't believe I've put up with you all this time! And you wonder why even your own grandfather obviously liked your brother better, you idiot!"

This time, it was Lovino who hesitated, and unlike Antonio, he froze physically as well as mentally, his eyes wide in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. It only lasted for one second, though, and soon he was kicking and screaming twice as much as before, vile curses streaming out of his mouth in torrents.

"Bastard! Burn in fucking hell, asshole! I fucking hate you, you disgusting son of a bitch! It's your fucking fault all this is happening to me, anyway! Jerkass! It was your fucking idea! I goddamn hate you! I hope you drop dead, you—"

"Gentlemen!" a third, alarmed voice was heard, along with hurried steps. "Gentlemen, please stop it this instant!"

"You two, break it up right now!" another, roaring voice barked at them.

"What is going on here?" yet another voice asked, perplexed.

Two pairs of strong hands grabbed Antonio, each by one arm, and lifted him off Lovino. Ludwig and some other man he had never seen in his life – most likely one of the villagers – restrained him while the priest once again helped Lovino to his feet, also keeping a firm hold on his arm so that Lovino wouldn't make any move to attack Antonio.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Ludwig roared right into Antonio's ear, half-deafening him for a minute. However, both he and the priest were soon staring accusingly at Lovino.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" asked Lovino in indignation. "He's the one who started it!"

"You must have provoked him," said Ludwig.

"I didn't! He's the one who's out of his fucking mind! Why does everyone always assume I'm the bad guy?! Let me go, damn it! Don't touch me!" he snarled at the priest, shaking him off quite rudely. "I'm going back in there, and I don't want to be bothered by this nonsense again!" he shouted and, having thrown a last dirty glare at Antonio, he stormed off back into the church, still mumbling obscenities to himself.


	7. Astray

**A/N**: Once again, thank you very much for the lovely reviews! This chapter is rather uneventful and light-hearted compared to the previous one, though.

* * *

– **CHAPTER 7 –**

_**Astray**_

Lovino avoided everyone else for the rest of the day. At first he had half a mind to find Bella and ask her to explain herself, but when his eyes began to sting with the threat of more tears, he quickly discarded the idea and isolated himself somewhere well out of sight. Damn it, he was a grown man, so why did he keep crying like a baby? He hated being weak, hated it so much...

He just couldn't believe it had come to this. Just when he had begun to feel more at ease after his soul-cleansing confession, he'd promptly lost his only friends in the world. What he had always suspected had finally revealed itself to be true. Everyone was against him. There was no one he could trust. He was completely alone. Everyone hated him. Hell, even he hated himself, perhaps most of all.

To top it off, that damned sickness – that _curse _– had resurfaced. Punishment, it had to be punishment. God must really hate him. From the moment he had been born, nothing had ever gone right for him. It was almost cruel, really, to be given hope that things were finally changing for the better and then have it all taken from him. Then again, he supposed maybe he deserved that.

He spent that night curled up in a protective ball in his hiding place, eventually falling into another fitful sleep. He dreamt of his grandfather again, but they weren't nightmares or depressing memories from his childhood. They were just recollections of all those stories he had heard from when Grandpa had been a young man, proud, wealthy, powerful, strong, brave, and admired by all. In his dreams, he was his young grandfather, travelling around the world, easily crushing his enemies, winning over the hearts of pretty ladies, surrounded by glory and riches.

When he woke up much earlier than he normally would have – which was still earlier than most people – he couldn't remember much of those dreams, but he felt oddly reinvigorated. Physically, he felt much better than he had in days, if slightly sore from sleeping for so many hours in such an uncomfortable position. In his heart, he could still feel the bliss of living like his grandfather, which filled him with strength and determination.

Once again, he wondered, what would his young grandfather think if he could see what his future self and his progeny had been reduced to? He would surely be mortified! This whole family had become horrifically decadent, and Lovino was the greatest culprit. Granted, he wasn't the one who had lost the family's fortune, but he perpetuated the disgrace, exacerbated it with his weakness and cowardice.

He suddenly realised that was partly because he kept relying on other people, which was a dangerous thing. Even those he had thought he could trust had turned their back on him, so now he was falling apart. He could only trust himself. He couldn't count on friends. He didn't _need_ friends. He would stand on his own feet, just like his Grandpa.

The plan was still the same, but now it did not depend on other people.

While everyone else slept, he "collected" a few things he would need for his trip. Food, water, Bella's cloak, Ludwig's sword, gun, and whatever travelling equipment he could find, though the map was his main priority – he still needed to know where he was before deciding which way he should go from here. By the time he was done collecting all these things, the priest – Lovino never caught his name – was also up, so Lovino went to see him. The elderly man was kind enough to donate him some clothes, which Lovino eagerly put on after washing up. These clothes weren't as nice as the ones he had been wearing; they were plain and a little tattered; but at least they were clean. He thanked the priest for everything and took all the stuff he had collected outside, when the sky was already paling as the time for sunrise approached.

Part of him wondered if this wasn't a form of suicide. He _wasn't _his grandfather, no matter how much he wished otherwise. There were still hired assassins out there looking for him. There were bandits and wild animals. There was his own weakness. The world was a dangerous, frightening place. If anything went wrong, no one would help him.

He decided, however, that taking all those risks had to be worth it. Even if he failed, it was better than going back to what he was. He could do this, if he put his mind to it. Just trying was enough. He would make his grandfather proud for once.

He mounted on Ludwig's horse and set off.

oOo

After the scuffle with Lovino, Antonio tried to avoid him, which wasn't difficult, seeing as Lovino seemed to be doing the same thing to him. He hurried back to Bella, but found her fast asleep, taking a well-deserved rest, so he did not disturb her. He, himself, turned in much earlier than usual, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day for everyone. It took him a while to fall asleep, though, because he was beginning to feel a little guilty about what he had done. Maybe his remark about the twins' grandfather liking Feliciano better had been a little too harsh and uncalled for.

That was why he rarely got angry and confrontational. He hated all the unpleasantness it generated and always felt guilty afterwards, even if he felt completely justified. It was just as well that it took a lot to get him that angry.

The following morning, he considered seeking Lovino to apologise to him, or at the very least have a more reasonable talk about what he had done to Bella. Guilty or not, Antonio had not forgiven him for it quite yet. He was still angry, but at least now he felt more in control of himself.

He had expected Lovino to have quietly come back into the room some time during the night and slept in the mattress they had prepared for him. However, the mattress lay empty and untouched. He searched the rest of the church, but Lovino was nowhere to be seen. Was he sulking in some hidden place as usual? Well, in any case, he would eventually have to come out of his hiding spot to eat, right?

Breakfast time came and went. Time for lunch drew nearer. Yet, there was no sign of Lovino.

"Have you seen Lovino today?" he asked Bella when they both met in the room with the mattress.

She shook her head. "No, not at all. I thought he was with you."

"No, I haven't seen him since the fight yesterday."

Bella blinked, suddenly a little more alert. "What fight? Did—did the Russos find us?"

"No, I meant the fight between us... me and Lovino, I mean," said Antonio, feeling a little awkward.

"You two had a fight?" Her green eyes widened and she seemed to be taking a closer look at Antonio. "My goodness! So that thing on your face is a fading bruise, isn't it? I assumed—What—Why on Earth did you fight? How come I didn't hear about this at all until now?"

Antonio touched his right cheek, where he assumed was a fading, almost imperceptible bruise.

"Well, he insulted you, so I had it out with him."

"You what? What are you talking about?"

"I mean, I couldn't just let him get away with it!"

"Wait, let me see if I understand. You thought he had insulted me, so you decided to, uh, 'defend my honour' by picking a fight with him? Are you out of your mind?"

"Er, I didn't really mean to fight him—Well, okay, maybe I did, but I know I shouldn't have. Anyway, he kind of had it coming."

"But why?" Bella, who had finally calmed down since yesterday, began to look quite distressed again. Antonio couldn't figure out why.

"He insulted you—"

"Where did you get the idea that he insulted me?" She looked as puzzled as he felt now.

"You—but—You told me he said horrible things to you!"

She stared at him for a moment, astonished.

"He did say horrible things to me!" she admitted, and Antonio's brain almost exploded, because this conversation made less and less sense. Fortunately, Bella soon elaborated, "But he didn't say horrible things about _me_! He said horrible things about _himself_!"

"Wait, what?"

"You should have heard him!" Bella sighed, acting as if she hadn't just broken Antonio's brain. "He called himself worthless and disgusting, among other things. And he expected me to think the same! He wouldn't even let me reassure him... I could see how much he was hurting himself saying those things – believing them – and seeing his pain made me die a little inside..."

"Wait, wait, let me get this straight!" said Antonio. "You mean you were only crying and sobbing uncontrollably like that because Lovino was throwing a pity party? Not because he rejected you or insulted you?" Antonio didn't mean to sound unsympathetic towards Lovino's suffering. Many times in his life had he witnessed Lovino in a self-depreciating mood, and it never failed to tug at Antonio's heartstrings. However, it was no news that Lovino had an inferiority complex the size of a small continent, and it boggled his mind that such a simple and obvious fact had come as such as shock to Bella after all this time.

"Well, I was quite sad when he rejected me. I guess that might have made me a little emotional..." Bella conceded. "But he didn't insult me at all! What you did to him was totally uncalled for!"

"But then... this was all a silly misunderstanding?" concluded Antonio, increasingly dismayed as he remembered his fight with Lovino the day before and all the harsh things he had said and done. As if the guilt he had been feeling when he believed his actions had been justified weren't bad enough! Now it was just overwhelming. "My God, what have I done? I'm such an idiot! I need to find Lovino and apologise to him right away!"

"HE'S GONE!" a roaring voice resonated throughout the church, making both Bella and Antonio cringe. Ludwig seemed to materialize out of thin air right behind Antonio, who yelped in surprise and backed away, instinctively shielding Bella with his own body when the other man looked even more intimidating than usual. His face was livid and he loomed over the slightly cowering couple as if he planned on crushing them under his foot and sprinkling their mortal remains on his lunch.

"Eek! Have mercy, sir!" begged Bella.

"What's wrong?" asked Antonio.

"He's gone! Lovino Vargas is gone! He's left town on his own while we were all asleep!"

"What?" exclaimed the couple in unison.

"But that's impossible!" Antonio protested.

"Then explain to me where he is, and who stole my belongings!"

"What—what belongings?"

"My horse, my weapons, my map, my compass, all my money—How did he even steal the things that I had with me all the time, anyway?"

"He's an excellent pickpocket," said Antonio sagely, then yelped when Bella cuffed him chidingly to make him realise he was supposed to be _defending _Lovino. "I-I mean... he must have got caught by the Russos!" he said, unable to offer an alternative explanation about the misplacement of Ludwig's belongings without possibly offending the man.

"Oh, God, if that's what happened, we need to go save him!" said Bella.

"Nice try," rumbled Ludwig, irritation emanating from him like heat from a blazing bonfire. "But one villager witnessed his departure from the church. He was alone and left of his own free will."

"But that doesn't seem like him at all!" Antonio insisted, shaking his head repeatedly. "Why would he sneak out while everyone else was sleeping and leave on his own? The Lovino I know would be terrified of travelling by himself when he knows there are people out there who want him dead!"

"Well, apparently he has got over his fear!" Ludwig retorted.

"But why leave us behind? We've come this far together!"

"Maybe he was upset about the fight from yesterday?" suggested Bella.

Antonio flushed bright red, knowing in his heart of hearts that _that_ would indeed be very typical of Lovino. He did tend to overreact whenever the two of them had a fight or an argument. He covered his face with both hands and just let out a wordless yell to release all the pent-up frustration that had been accumulating since the day before.

"That idiot! What was he thinking? We need to find him before he gets himself killed!"

"As much as I would love to wring that idiot's neck right now, I have to agree that we should find him as quickly as possible and make sure he is not hurt," said Ludwig. "But that's only because my master would be most displeased if he found out that any harm had come to Mr. Lovino Vargas."

"Well, as long as you can help him, I don't care about your reasons!" said Antonio, truly relieved to have someone who inspired so much confidence and reliability on their side.

"There is only one little problem, though," said Ludwig.

"Yeah?"

"He stole all my belongings, including all my money!" Ludwig shouted right in Antonio's face, spittle flying everywhere. "We're stranded here in this village until we can find a way to make some money or meet someone who just _happens_ to be going in the direction that brainless idiot went – whatever that is – and is kind enough to give us a lift for free!"

"Oh..." Antonio frowned and scratched his head. "One would think he didn't want us to come after him."

Ludwig threw an incredulous look that seemed to question his intelligence, but he didn't know Lovino like Antonio did. Upset or not, he was sure that, deep down – even if he didn't know it yet – Lovino _wanted_ his friends to come after him to make sure he was all right. Antonio was completely convinced of it. And that was why he would not waste any time. He didn't care that they had no money and no means of transportation. They would find a way. They _had_ to, not only for Lovino but for everyone's sake.

oOo

As a matter of fact, Lovino might have felt a little guilty about leaving his former friends virtually stranded in that small village, but he assumed that they would eventually manage to leave and go back to Monterosso, where they would resume their normal lives and forget all about Lovino, so he didn't dwell on it any longer. As for Ludwig, Lovino didn't feel guilty at all and actually hoped he would starve to death and rot in hell.

They would be fine. It was himself he was worried about. He was the one being hunted by murderous men sent by the powerful Russo family. He was the one travelling all by himself at the risk of being mugged or having a fit and falling off his horse to crack his head open on the ground. God help him...

For once, though, luck seemed to be on his side, and he soon arrived in the city of Terraverde. The place was absolutely stunning, much larger and livelier than Monterosso. Lovino had heard of this city before, but never had the opportunity to visit it. His grandfather in particular had told many stories about it, having visited it frequently in his youth. Grandpa had always wished to live here, for it was, after all, the so-called "city of the arts", where many artists came to live in. Even the houses and the streets looked like works of art, so full of vibrant colours, tasteful contours, and beautiful statues and monuments.

Lovino dismounted and began to stroll around the city, fascinated. He happened to find the local church, which, judging by its size, might as well be a cathedral. He would make sure to visit it later; it was guaranteed to be as magnificent as the rest of the city. He gaped at the sight openly, not even caring that he probably looked like an ignorant yokel to the locals.

"Oh, my God!" some maniac screamed in the background at the top of their lungs. "Oh, my God, my God! It's you! It's really you! Lovino!"

At the sound of his name, Lovino finally paused and averted his gaze from the row of buildings he had been watching to see who was making all that racket. He didn't even have time to see them, however, because in the blink of an eye he was having the life squeezed out of him by a pair of thin arms. The person embracing him was laughing and babbling something that came out mostly unintelligible.

"What the hell? Let go me of me, you sodding freak!" Lovino screeched, struggling to extricate himself from the other's embrace.

"It _is _you! I'd recognise that foul mouth everywhere!" the stranger laughed.

When Lovino finally succeeded in pulling away to see who this person was, he froze in his tracks. For a moment, it was like looking in a mirror, though the longer he stared at the one before him, the more he took in all the little differences between them. Differences that were a little too familiar. The light auburn hair, slightly fairer than his own, the squinting eyes, the dopey smile...

"F-Fe—Feliciano?" he asked in shock and wonder, even though he was sure his mind was playing tricks on him. This couldn't be his brother; surely it was only some random guy who just happened to bear a striking resemblance to Feliciano!

However, the other younger man grinned in delight when Lovino uttered his name.

"You recognised me! You remember me! You really are my brother!" he tried to hug Lovino again, but Lovino held him off.

"Feliciano? Is that really you?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes, it's me, Lovino! What a surprise, huh! God, I'm so happy to see you! I missed you so, so, so, so very much, my dearest brother!" he cooed, having succeeded in catching his brother in another tight hug. "We haven't seen each other in—what, almost fifteen years, right? Let me look at you." Feliciano pulled away and eyed Lovino from head to toe. "Wow, you've grown a little taller than me!" He examined Lovino's face a little more closely and his expression faltered. "You look—good—I mean, _good grief_, Lovino, have you been sleeping at all lately? You look terrible! And what are you wearing?" he looked distastefully at Lovino's ragged attire as if it were a sinful thing that caused him great offence.

"You, on the other hand, look like you're in the pink of health, as usual," Lovino commented in the same tone, noting how Feliciano, albeit paler than him and still on the slender side, seemed to have a little more meat in him in a way that made him look well-fed, and how he had bright energy and exuberance pouring out of him in waves like water from a fountain. "And what the hell are _you _wearing? Those are some really fancy clothes, aren't they?"

"What, these? Nah, they're just my casual clothes. Come with me and I'll give you something even more stylish to wear. You can't go around with those... rags you're wearing! They don't suit you at all!" He grabbed Lovino's wrist and began to drag him along.

Lovino was still reeling from the shock of meeting his long-lost brother in this place, in such an expected manner. He had never known where Lord Edelstein, along with his young servant Feliciano, had moved to when they left Monterosso, because by that time Feliciano had long stopped visiting Lovino and sending him letters. He didn't even know what to think or how to feel about this encounter. However, there was something very _off_ about all this. He planted his heels on the ground and forced Feliciano to stop and turn to face him again.

"Wait a minute!" he demanded. "How come you're wearing such fancy clothes? You can't convince me that's the uniform that guy makes all his servants wear! Even he's not that flashy! What's going on here?"

"Oh! That's actually a pretty funny story! Um, I mean, not funny as in haha-funny... Actually, it was quite tragic. But it's strange how the world works! You see, Lord Edelstein had a son, and he was supposed to be his heir. He was a really great friend of mine, too! Too bad you never got the chance to meet him. But then, one day, he disappeared. Lord Edelstein tried really hard to find him again, but he failed and his son was given up for dead." Feliciano had grown increasingly solemn as he told this little sob story, but suddenly he was all smiles and sunshine again. "So he had no choice but make me his heir and I inherited all his fortune! Now I'm rich just like Grandpa used to be!" A giggle punctuated his speech.

"What," said Lovino in a flat tone, unable to even make it a question. He just couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"That's right!" Feliciano laughed. "And that's why we were finally able to meet again! Since you never replied to any of my letters when we were children, Lord Edelstein didn't let me send you any more because he thought it was a waste of time and money if you weren't even going to bother replying. But now that I've inherited his money, I can do whatever I want with it, so I sent Ludwig to bring you here so we could see each other again! Because I missed you so, so, so, so very much!" He opened his arms wide in preparation for another bone-crushing hug, but Lovino held him at a safe distance.

"Wait, wait, what the hell are you saying? Ludwig? That foreign bastard we met on the road? So... _you're _the mysterious master who sent him after me. That guy—he's your servant?"

"Noooo, Ludwig is not my servant! He's my friend!"

"He said his master had sent him to find me!"

"Ah, Ludwig is so silly... I keep telling him he shouldn't call me master, but he insists that's not proper."

"You have servants? You—you inherited that Edelstein bastard's whole fortune and now you're a nobleman?"

"That's what I said! Isn't it wonderful? Um, by the way, where is Ludwig? Wasn't he with you? I told him—"

"God damn you!" Lovino burst out, shocking his brother into silence. His breathing was heavy with barely contained emotion. "You mean to tell me that you've turned from a dirty poor servant to a filthy rich nobleman just like that? You—you have fancy clothes, and servants, and you live in this city, the place Grandpa had always dreamt of—I bet you also have a huge mansion and stuff yourself with delicious food all day, too! And I bet everyone in this goddamn city loves and worships you! Grandpa would've been so _proud_ of you, wouldn't he?"

"Well, that's—"

"And what about me?" Lovino shouted over his brother's voice. "While you've been here living like a little prince, I was left to rot in that goddamn orphanage, and then in that goddamn monastery, and all I owned was half a bedroom and a few coins I managed to steal! And then, when I finally thought things would get better, I—I—" Lovino choked and felt his eyes sting again, but he fought not to let any tears fall and keep talking. "It's just not fair! It's not fair that you've got everything and I've got nothing! But it's always been that way, hasn't it? What have _you _done to deserve all that?"

"Aww... Lovino, please don't cry..." said Feliciano, moving to comfort him.

"I'm not crying, damn it!" Lovino slapped his brother's hands off. "And don't touch me! Look at you! It's like you're mocking me! It's like the whole world is mocking me! It's always been like this, ever since we were children! I'm sick of wallowing in the mud while you're always on top of a fucking pedestal! I hate you! I hate you so much! I wish you'd never been born! Then I wouldn't have to live in your shadow and maybe my life would be a lot better! Damn you!"

"But... Lovino..." Feliciano's bottom lip was quivering and tears were pooling at the corner of his eyes.

"Don't you dare cry!" hissed Lovino. "That doesn't work with me, so don't even try it! Just stay away from me. If you send anyone else to kidnap me again, I'll fucking kill you! As far as I'm concerned, I'm an only child!"

He turned away and stormed off, ignoring the shocked stares from the few passers-by who had been watching the scene.

He was almost disappointed that Feliciano had just taken his words to heart and didn't even try to stop him from leaving.

oOo

It hadn't taken Ludwig, Antonio, and Bella as long as they had first thought to get out of Pontebianco. They all agreed on one thing; they needed horses, at the very least. They disagreed on one other thing; how they should get those horses. Antonio, for all his child-like naïvety and kindly nature, had no qualms about taking what he needed by illegal means, if it was necessary. There were more important matters at hand, he would argue. Ludwig could not accept that point of view. Bella didn't think it was right, either, but she thought Ludwig's idea – that is, politely asking someone to lend them some horses – was quite ridiculous. Who in their right mind would just lend their horses to complete strangers just because they asked politely?

So, unable to reach a consensus, the three of them split up. Each one would try their own method and see which one would succeed.

Antonio was sneakier than people took him for. He easily crept into one stable and took one horse. There, it was all very simple. He couldn't understand why Ludwig and Bella had been so adamantly against his idea. It wasn't as though he didn't plan on returning the horse. He would return it! If he remembered it. Maybe.

Ludwig, as well, had a lot less trouble acquiring a horse through his own method than his two companions had expected. He just approached the first horse-owner he met and told him, "I need a horse!"

Next, he meant to ask, in a polite and straightforward manner, if he could borrow his horse for a few days, and then promise that the horse would be returned in perfect conditions and that his owner would be rewarded for his kindness. However, he never got the chance to say all that, because the horse owner, whose eyes had strangely widened at the sight of Ludwig, suddenly started shaking as if he were cold and shouted:

"Y-yes, um, just t-take the horse! A-any horse you like, s-sir! Just take it and g-go! N-no need to return it!" The man seemed to be crouching a little and he had raised his hands over his head as if to shield himself against an attack, but since Ludwig had never made any threatening move towards him, he could only assume the man was protecting his eyes from the sunlight.

"Really? Can I really keep it?" asked Ludwig, pleasantly surprised. "Thank you, sir. _Thank you_!" he said. The man flinched and shivered a little more. Ludwig decided not to keep the man in the cold any longer and left with his new horse.

Who said no one would give him something if he only asked politely? These villagers were a lot kinder than Antonio and Isabella gave them credit for! Ludwig laughed good-naturedly, failing to notice the kind horse owner's utterly petrified expression.

Meanwhile, Bella had been considering just asking politely like Ludwig or, failing that, "borrowing" a horse like Antonio had suggested. However, she soon found a young man taking care of a horse and began to flirt idly with him.

"So, where do you come from?" he asked her at one point.

"Oh, I'm from Monterosso. It's a town nearby."

"I've heard of it, but I've never been there before. We usually go to Terraverde for business."

"I wouldn't have expected you to go to Monterosso. It's a very poor town, so no one ever has any business there. They all go to Terraverde or some other big city like that," she lamented and looked up at the sky, hoping that the sunlight would irritate her eyes a little. "It's not a very pretty town. Our people are impoverished and have barely enough to eat. We don't have any medicine, either. My grandmother... my poor, dear old grandmother is very, very ill. So I left my home town to get some medicine for her in Terraverde, you see."

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that," said the young man sympathetically.

She pulled her handkerchief out and covered her face, dabbing at her eyes, even though they were still quite dry. "But now that I've lost my horse, I'll never make it to Terraverde and back to Monterosso. My dear grandmother, who raised me since I was a baby... Oh, Grandma, I'm sorry I couldn't save you!" She buried her face into the handkerchief and let out some muffled sobbing noises.

"Th-that's horrible!" said the young man, flustered. "Um... Here! Take this horse!"

Bella gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely! Take this horse so you can get the medicine your grandmother needs!"

"Oh! Oh, thank you! Thank you so very much! God bless you for your kindness! Ah, now I can save my grandmother! I am eternally grateful to you!" She planted one kiss on each of the boy's cheeks, making him blush to the roots of his hair.

"N-no problem! Er, will I, um, will I ever see you again?" he asked her shyly.

"Once my grandmother is cured of her terrible illness, I might be able to come back here," she answered, with a smile. Then, taking the horse's reins, she skipped away, saying in a joyful, relieved tone, "Wait for me, Grandma! I'm coming to save you!"

In the end, it only took the three of them about fifteen minutes to find each a horse owner, get a horse, and come back to the arranged meeting point. They were all smug about the success of their respective methods and secretly impressed by the others' success, so rather than gloat or ask any questions, they exchanged meaningful looks and triumphant smiles and left in silence.


	8. Captured

**– ****CHAPTER 8 –**

_**Captured**_

True to her word, Natalia had not wasted any time in sending her men after her sad excuse for a husband and his oafish friend. However, she hadn't ordered a full-blown attack right away. Rather, she had sent a small group of men first, almost like a way to test the waters. She had figured that even six men would be enough to handle those two traitors, especially since one them was injured and a cowardly weakling.

She wasn't impressed at all when her men returned defeated. In fact, she almost killed them for their incompetence. Moreover, it seemed she had underestimated that coward's ability to run for his life – after all, that was a coward's speciality, was it not?

However, as soon as her spies informed her that Vargas was heading to the city of Terraverde, _all by himself_, Natalia was thrilled. This was her chance. She sent word for her men to capture him and bring him back to her. This time he wouldn't be so lucky.

She spent the time that took for them to go to Terraverde and return again planning how she would carry out her torturous revenge, devising all the ways to make him suffer, picking torture devices... She only hoped he would survive long enough for her to try every one of those on him.

"Milady, Mr. Vargas awaits you," announced her butler.

"Excellent!" she said, pleased with their efficiency, which certainly redeemed their early failure. That had been much faster than she had expected. Why, she hadn't even had time to decide how she should put an end to that man's miserable life once she got tired of torturing him. Oh, well, she was sure she would come up with something when the time came, anyway.

"He was quite careless, Milady," said the servant as she accompanied him. "I heard he was wandering aimlessly around the city, barely paying attention to where he was going, and when he saw your men closing in on him, he was so terrified that he didn't even put up a fight or try to escape."

"That's Vargas, all right. He's all bark and no bite," she said, feeling smug. She entered the room where Vargas was being held and tried to keep her face bare of any expression, but it was hard to hold back a predatory grin. "Mr. Vargas," she purred. "What a _pleasure_ to see you again."

Her husband visibly gulped, his face pale and his whole body shaking, just like he had been when she had been about to pull the trigger to end his life once and for all. He hadn't changed at all.

"Wh-what—what are you g-going to do to—to m-me?" he stammered, his voice high-pitched from terror and his eyes darting back and forth between Natalia and the men around him.

"Do you really need to ask, Mr. Vargas? It is as I told you from the beginning. I am going to make you pay for what you did to me and my family." She pulled her trusty old knife out from her sleeve and stroked the blade, licking her lips. "I want to make you scream."

"Oh, God! Oh, God, no! No, no, please, I'm not into that kind of thing! That's sinful! Sinful, I say! Please don't hurt me! I can't stand pain! Oh, God, please don't hurt me! I'll do anything! Anything!" he begged in tears. Natalia was disappointed; she hadn't even done anything yet and already he had been reduced to a sobbing mess.

"I didn't think it was possible, Vargas, but you've become even more pathetic than before!" she spat.

"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! Please forgive me! Whatever it is I did to you, I'm soooorryyyyyyy! I didn't mean to!"

Natalia had wanted him to scream, yes, but this was getting ridiculous. And _annoying_ beyond all reason.

"For God's sake, shut up!" she yelled. "And don't apologise when you don't mean it, you bastard! Not that I would show you any mercy even if your apologies were sincere!"

She had stomped closer to him to beat him into silence if needed be, but she froze in her tracks when she finally took a good look at his face for the first time since she entered this room. Now that she could see him from this up-close, she thought there was something decidedly different about him. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that he looked all... _wrong_.

"Vargas?" she tried.

He looked up, almost hopefully. "Y-yes?"

She narrowed her eyes and brought her face just a few inches from him, which made him quiver a little more again. He offered her a tentative, gentle smile, like he had always done when he had been trying to get on her good side before their marriage. Though, on second thought, the smile also looked a little different. A little more sincere, maybe, or more boyish. That semi-permanent frown was also suspiciously absent from his brows, and it just occurred to her that he had yet to utter a single curse.

With a low growl, she grabbed his chin with her claw-like fingers, making him yelp in alarm, and turned his head this way and that, then raised his chin a little so she could look at him straight in the eyes. She wasn't sure, for it could be easily be a trick of the light, but she thought they looked the wrong shade. She suddenly slammed her hand on his right shoulder. He flinched at the motion, but she could tell it had been more out of surprise than out of any lingering pain.

"You are not Vargas," she stated, sinking her nails into his shoulder.

"B-but I am! Please, don't hurt me, I swear I'm me!" he cried.

"You—when you were apologising, you said, 'whatever it is I did to you'! You don't even know why you're here, do you?"

"W-well," he sniffled, "I assumed it was because you and I were in a relationship at some point and then you caught me with another girl. Or something like that."

Natalia hesitated. In a way, that _was _why he had been brought here. Was he her husband after all?

He then opened his mouth again and removed all doubt:

"But I'm really sorry to say I don't remember you at all. I-I'm sorry! There are just so many girls, you know! I can't keep track of everyone I meet! And—and—I didn't want to offend you. I'm so sorry! Please don't be mad at me!" he began to sob again, his fingers clutching her sleeve pleadingly. She huffily tore it away from him.

"You are not my husband! You are not Lovino Vargas!" she shouted.

"Lovino?" The impostor's face lit up. "Th-that would be my brother! Wow, so you're Lovino's wife? He never told me he was married! Aww, I can't believe I missed his wedding!"

"Your brother?" she growled.

"Yes, my twin brother, although we don't look that alike," he said, rather happily, until his gaze fell on the blade in her hand again. "Um, ma'am, can you please point that thing the other way? You're looking sort of pretty scary right now!"

Ignoring him, she turned her wrathful glare on the men responsible for capturing her husband. "You caught the wrong person, you idiots!"

"Um, no offence, but... I'd think that Lovino's wife, at the very least, would be able to tell him apart from his brother!" Vargas' twin pointed out. "I mean, it's not like we're identical!" he added with a little giggle, which was cut off short when she backhanded him. He whimpered, nursing his cheek. "You know, I'd never have imagined that Lovino was into girls like you. I mean, you're pretty and all, but you're not very sweet," he lamented.

"God, you really don't know when to shut up, do you?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't kill me!"

"I'm not going to kill you." _Yet_, she added mentally. She had to resist the urge to disprove her words as soon as they were out. "You may be stupid and annoying and _not_ Lovino Vargas, but you can still be of some use to me."

"H-how?"

"I will make you my hostage to bait your brother."

The other Vargas heaved a sad sigh. "Why do you have a grudge against my brother?"

"That's none of your business," she hissed.

"Well, never mind. I can tell you that that plan of yours to bait him by holding me hostage is not going to work, for two simple reasons."

"Oh?"

"Firstly, there's Ludwig. He's my best friend as well as my bodyguard. He will come to rescue me as soon as he learns that I've been kidnapped."

Natalia scoffed. "I have a whole army at my disposal. You think one man is going to get even past the front gate?"

"And then there's the second reason," he went on, ignoring what she had just said. He sighed again, looking quite depressed. "My brother hates me. He wouldn't care that I'm being held hostage. Actually, he'd probably think it's great that I've been mistaken for him."

"You have failed to convince me, Mr. Vargas."

"No, really, I'm serious! He hates me! We finally saw each other after nearly fifteen years apart and he said he hates me! He said he doesn't want to see me ever again! He'll be happy when he hears I'm your hostage!"

"We'll see about that." She nodded at her men. "Tie him up, and don't take your eyes off him for a moment. If he's anything like his brother, he'll do anything to escape and run for his life."

oOo

Since Ludwig, Antonio, and Bella managed to get horses so quickly, they actually arrived in Terraverde soon enough. Although Antonio was reasonably certain that this was Lovino's destination, they had no idea how long he planned to stay here or where exactly he would be. This was a very big city, and if Lovino found them before they found him, it was quite possible he would do his best to avoid them, making their search even more difficult.

"First things first," Ludwig told them. "We should take a rest and get some money, just in case we need it in the future. Also, weapons. This city is very dangerous, so it is necessary to—Hey, are you two listening to me?" he suddenly yelled when he noticed that his two companions were gaping at their surroundings in awe.

"It's so beautiful!" said Bella.

"It's like heaven!" said Antonio.

"How can such a beautiful place be dangerous?"

"You two!" Ludwig thundered. "Stop acting like tourists and pay attention to what I'm saying! Don't let the beauty of this city fool you. This city is _very dangerous_! Do you understand? Stay close to me. Pay attention to where you are going. Do not let any stranger approach you. Let me know if you see anything suspicious. If someone bumps into you, don't let them get away, even if they apologise and act innocent. Never lower your guard. _Understood_?"

"Y-yes, sir!" the couple replied, more scared of Ludwig than of the criminals in this city.

"Good!" Satisfied, Ludwig proceeded to lead them to his master's manor.

Truth be told, Ludwig was a little nervous, almost reluctant to go home. He could only hope his master wasn't home. Ludwig had promised him that he would only return with his master's brother, and seeing him again at this point would mean he had failed in his mission.

"Mr. Ludwig, welcome back! Oh, I see you have brought guests. Good morning, sir, miss," one of the maids greeted them upon their arrival at the manor. "Mr. Ludwig, some gentlemen were here a few hours ago looking for you."

"Looking for _me_?" Ludwig was taken aback. "Not for Lord Vargas?"

"Lord Vargas?" Antonio repeated under his breath in confusion. Ludwig ignored him for the moment.

"No, they said they were looking for you. Lord Vargas left earlier today for a stroll and hasn't come back since."

"He went out on his own? Please tell me he at least took some kind of weapon with him..."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ludwig," said the maid, shaking her head. "I tried to tell him it wasn't safe to go out without protection, but he insisted he would be fine."

Ludwig massaged the bridge of his nose, already feeling a headache coming on. It was a feeling he had become well acquainted with ever since he had first met his master.

"That—that idiot! I've told him a million times—" he broke off with a cough to regain his composure. "Well, at any rate, who were those men looking for me and what did they want?"

"They had a request for you." She handed him a neatly sealed envelope. "They said you must deliver this letter to Mr. Lovino Vargas urgently. Lovino Vargas... Isn't that the Master's brother he keeps talking about?"

"I knew it!" Antonio burst out and pointed at Ludwig. "Your master—Is his name Feliciano? Feliciano Vargas?"

Ludwig sighed. "I suppose it is pointless to keep it a secret any longer. You are, of course, correct."

"No way!" exclaimed Antonio, awestruck and looking at Ludwig as if seeing him for the first time. "Feliciano is your _master_? Last time I heard from him, he'd been working as a servant to some rich foreign guy! How did he get so rich himself?"

"That is not my story to tell," said Ludwig in clipped tones. He looked down at the letter in his hands, wondering what was written in it. His moral code absolutely prevented him from even considering opening it. It wouldn't be right, since this letter was not addressed to him. He needed to find his master's nuisance of a brother again and deliver it to him. _Urgently_, it seemed. Could it be more urgent than making sure his master was all right, though?

"I wonder what that letter says," murmured Bella, eyeing it with both curiosity and concern. "Didn't those gentleman say what it is about?"

"No, miss," answered the maid. "They only said it had to be delivered as quickly as possible. A matter of life and death, they said."

"I don't like the sound of that," said Antonio, now quite worried as well. "We should find Lovino so we can know what this is all about soon. We were supposed to be looking for him, anyway. I'm sure he's somewhere in this city."

"But it could take us a very long time to find him," Bella pointed out.

"Well, the longer we stay here doing nothing, the longer it will take us to find him! Let's go, Ludwig!"

"Very well," said Ludwig, carefully putting the letter into a pocket. "I'll just get my weapons and the money and then we'll go after him."

oOo

It took them much less time than they could have ever hoped to get a clue about Lovino's whereabouts. They had a few good guesses, but the answer became clear when they reached the main square and Ludwig happened to meet an acquaintance, an old artist who spent most of his time at this square watching the people and painting them when he found inspiration.

"Ah, Ludwig, you look like you're looking for someone. Lord Vargas, is it? I saw him around here earlier today."

"Really?" Ludwig looked at him anxiously. "Was he alone? Was he all right?"

"Yes, he was alone. I couldn't see him too well – he was a little far away, you see – but he looked all right to me. Why? Has something happened?"

"I'm... not sure," Ludwig sighed.

"Hmm. I wonder what he's playing at. He was wearing some really strange clothes."

Ludwig felt a knot of dread in his stomach. It wasn't unusual for his master to wear strange clothes, and therein lay the problem. Feliciano Vargas was, first and foremost, an artist, and true to an artist's heart, he could be quite eccentric and would often experiment parading around the city wearing strange clothes or, even worse, nothing at all. If it weren't for the fact that he was otherwise a very friendly and well-liked figure, Ludwig was sure his master would have already been kicked out from this city.

"Well, he was wearing some really ugly peasant clothes. Not stylish at all, I say. He always showed so much concern over his wardrobe, one would think he wouldn't want to be caught dead in those clothes..."

"Peasant clothes..." whispered Bella. "D'you think it could be...?"

"Lovino Vargas," said Ludwig, with a nod. "It could be. Either way, it was one of the two Vargases. Where did he go?" he asked the artist.

"Well, he seemed to be heading towards the cathedral. But that was hours ago. I haven't seen him ever since."

"Lovino _would_ go to the cathedral," remarked Antonio. "He's still on the run, after all. It's probably the safest place for him."

They thanked the artist for his help and hurried to the cathedral, Ludwig leading the way.

The cathedral was relatively empty at this time of the day, so they assumed it would be easy to spot Lovino. However, after splitting up and searching the entire ground floor, they had to admit that either Lovino was better at hiding himself than they'd thought, or he was not here at all. Eventually, they decided to ask the priest for help.

"Ah, so that young man is Feliciano's brother?" mused the priest after Ludwig described Lovino and mentioned his relation to his master. "I admit that when I was talking to him, for a moment I thought Feliciano must have hit his head. I never knew he had a brother, let alone one who looked _exactly_ like him. His brother did not mention anything about it, either."

"Where can we find him, Father?" Ludwig asked. "We have a very urgent message for him."

"Ah... He did make it quite clear that he did not wish to see anyone who came here looking for him. Perhaps I can relay the message for him in your stead?"

"He didn't mean _us_," said Antonio, with his customary grin, even though it _was_ quite possible that both he and Bella were included in Lovino's list of people he did not wish to see. "We're his friends! We came to _help_ him."

The priest was a bit reluctant to go against Lovino's wishes, but he knew that Ludwig, at the very least, was a good, honest man. He decided that there couldn't possibly be any harm in letting him see Lovino, especially if he was only supposed to deliver an important message.

Fortunately, Lovino was still in the cathedral, upstairs. The group followed the priest's directions to the exact location. As they ascended the stairs, they began to hear a distant, singing voice.

"I wonder who's singing," whispered Bella. "I can't make out the words, but the melody sounds so sad and beautiful."

"I think I have an idea," Antonio whispered back, with a secretive smile, but did not elaborate.

The voice gradually became louder and clearer. The lyrics were words of prayer and spoke of regret and hope. The words weren't really important, though. Anyone could have sung this same song and it wouldn't have made much difference. What mattered in fact was the sentiment put into every word by the singer. Each note carried such feeling that even the normally stoic Ludwig found himself touched by them.

Sad and beautiful, that was how Bella had described it, and he could see now it was a perfect description. The singer sang not with his mouth, but with his soul. His voice swirled in the air around them and caressed their ears, echoed in their hearts and spread through their entire beings, baring their souls and making them lose themselves in the waves of music.

The trio stood before the door that separated them from the singer. Antonio held his finger before his curved lips in a request for silence and slowly, very slowly, opened the door just wide enough for them to peek in, taking great care not to make a noise.

Ludwig shouldn't have been surprised to see who the singer was, given that this was where the priest had directed them to, but it still came as a huge shock to him. Never in a million years would he have imagined that such a beautiful voice, so full of tender feelings, could belong to the foul-mouthed, bad-tempered Lovino Vargas. If Ludwig hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed it at all.

His expression only made the scene even more incongruous. Even though he was facing the door, he did not notice their arrival, for he had his eyes closed, completely lost in his music. For a bizarre moment, Ludwig almost wondered if this was really Feliciano, because Lovino had certainly never looked like that. Gone was his omnipresent scowl, his features softened into an expression of melancholy that fitted the melody and the lyrics perfectly.

The urgency of the message was forgotten in favour of this wonderful display. All too soon, however, the notes trailed off into silence as the song reached its end and Lovino's eyes fluttered open. He immediately jumped three feet in the air, his overly loud, ungracious scream sounding like scraped metal to ears that had got too used to that smooth, velvety tenor voice from seconds before.

"What the hell are you doing here? Shit, you almost scared me to death, you bastards! How long have you been standing there? God damn it!" he yelled, panting and clutching at his chest.

"Sorry, we didn't mean to scare you," said Antonio, with an easy grin. "We just couldn't help listening to your lovely singing."

"Lovino, that was so beautiful and touching!" said Bella, looking like she was about to swoon. "I never did get the chance to hear you sing at the choir!"

Lovino's entire face turned a bright red. One could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

"I thought I was alone, damn it! You had no right to—to eavesdrop on me!"

"Aww, don't be shy!" said Antonio. "You did great—"

"Shut up! Why the hell are you here, anyway? Go away! I don't want to see you! Any of you!"

Antonio stepped closer, the smile still present but now quite anxious.

"Lovino, please listen to me! I want to apologise for what happened in Pontebianco. It was all a misunderstanding, you see! Let me explain—"

"No!" Lovino cut him off, holding out a hand in a stopping motion and making sure to keep the distance between. "I don't care what you have to say! I don't want to hear it! I just want to be left alone! God, is that really too much to ask for?"

Both Antonio and Bella lowered their heads sadly and did not try to approach him again, knowing that it would only upset Lovino further. Ludwig took a moment to watch this scene in contempt. There was the Lovino Vargas he knew... He was still barely able to believe that this same person had just sung the most heart-warming song Ludwig had ever heard. In fact, he still could barely believe that this—this _jerk _was his master's twin brother. They might look identical in appearance, but their personalities were as different as night and day. Why had Feliciano wanted to meet him again? If Ludwig were in his shoes, he would have been _thrilled _to be away from a brother like that.

Thinking about Feliciano reminded him that he had no time for this nonsense. He still needed to make sure that his vulnerable, inept, gullible master was all right, and the sooner he was done with this task, the sooner he could start looking for him.

"Mr. Vargas, I was requested to deliver this letter to you urgently. Just take it and I will gladly leave you alone if my presence is no longer required."

Lovino paused at the sight of the envelope that that been thrust in his direction, his brow knitting in confusion and wariness. With a brief dirty glare at Ludwig, he rudely snatched it from his hand and tore it open, his eyes quickly scanning the text. Ludwig noticed that there was something scrawled on the backside of the letter, but he could not see it clearly, so he went back to watching Lovino's expression, hoping to get a clue about the contents of this mysterious letter. The man's frown deepened and he looked even more confused than before. Once he was done reading, he read it again and again, then turned it over to read the strange scrawl on the backside. Then, he scoffed, half-crumpled the letter with one hand, and threw it in Ludwig's direction.

"This is for you," was all he said, sounding almost bored.

Now Ludwig was even more intrigued. For him? Wasn't the message meant for Lovino? Having caught the letter in his hands, Ludwig smoothed it out and read it. Antonio and Bella, no longer able to contain their curiosity, leant close on each of his side to read it as well.

_Mr. Lovino Vargas,_

_We have your brother. If you do not surrender, he will _

_suffer as if he were the one who committed an offence _

_against this family, and then you will suffer a much _

_worse punishment._

_If you know what is good for you and your brother, _

_you will do exactly as you are told and come "home"._

_Otherwise, you will be only delaying the unavoidable _

_and digging your own grave deeper and deeper._

_I trust you will make the right decision._

_Cordially yours,_

_N.R._

"Is this some kind of joke?" Ludwig wondered out loud and turned the letter over to read the scrawl. Although the handwriting was grotesquely oversized and shaky, he could still recognise it. Without a doubt, it belonged to his master. It read:

_Dear Ludwig,_

_HEEEEEELP_

_MEEEEEEEE_

_EEEEEEE!_

_Love,_

_Feliciano Vargas_

"That idiot," Ludwig muttered. This was what happened when Feliciano went out without any protection at all. Ludwig should have never left him alone; he should have tried harder to convince him that someone else could be entrusted with the job of finding his long-lost twin.

Ludwig turned to glare at said long-lost twin. Somehow, this was all his fault. Because of him Ludwig had been forced to leave Feliciano's side, and now it seemed that Feliciano had been kidnapped because someone had a grudge against Lovino.

"But, Lovino, you can't just surrender!" said a frantic Antonio.

"As if the thought had even occurred to me, idiot!" snapped Lovino.

"What are we going to do, then?" Bella asked, her eyes darting between her two friends. "We can't just leave poor Feliciano at the mercy of that awful woman! She'll kill him!"

"Of course we won't just leave him to that fate," Antonio reassured her. "We're going to rescue him. Right, Ludwig?"

"Naturally," said Ludwig, calmly folding the letter. He didn't feel as calm as he appeared to be, but in these kinds of situations, it was important not to let panic take over so that one could think straight and come up with an appropriate solution. "I am his bodyguard, after all." In reality, _babysitter_ or _nanny _might have been more accurate terms, but they didn't need to know that.

"Oh, can I come with you?" asked Bella eagerly.

"Of course not! It's too dangerous!" said Antonio. "You've already risked your life too much. You'd better stay here."

"But I want to help!"

"I won't be able to concentrate on saving Feliciano if I'm worried about making sure you'll be all right. I'd feel much more at ease knowing that you're safe here."

"I won't be a burden to you! I can take care of myself!"

"If I may voice my opinion?" interjected Ludwig. "Miss, please be reasonable. This is too dangerous for a lady. There is nothing you could do, anyway. The three of us should be able to handle the situation."

"'The three of us?'" Lovino yelled. "Who said you could count on me to take part in this ridiculous plan of yours?"

"What are you saying, Lovino?" Antonio gave him a scandalized look. "He's your brother! Are you really just going to let Natalia torture him to death? Think about what you're saying!"

"_You _think about what you're saying! You're all out of your fucking minds if you think we stand a snowball's chance in hell! It doesn't matter if we're three or four or even ten, we'll still be severely outnumbered! This is a suicidal mission!"

"So you're just going to give up without even trying? You're really going to abandon your own brother and leave him to die for a mistake _you_ made? Or do you have a better idea?"

Lovino looked like he wanted to say something, but for some reason, for once, he held his tongue and just glared daggers at Antonio, who was looking more unimpressed by the minute. After the staring contest between them went on for another minute, Antonio's features finally softened again into sympathy.

"Look, I understand that you're scared. You have good reasons to be. You—you don't have to come with us. Come to think of it, it'd be the same as if Bella came along. I'd worry and you wouldn't be able too—"

"God damn it, Antonio, I'm not completely useless!" Lovino shouted, his eyes suddenly a little too bright. "I just think that going against the Russo family head-first just to save that little idiot is a stupid, harebrained idea! So don't fucking count me in!"

A terrible thought suddenly occurred to Ludwig as to why Feliciano addressed him in a message that had only been intended for Lovino to read, sparing not a single word for his brother. Feliciano must have known from the beginning, somehow, that Lovino would do nothing to help him. And he had been absolutely correct in his assumption!

Ludwig was disgusted. He also had a brother. Well, an adopted older brother, which was close enough. They didn't always get along well. Like the Vargas twins, their personalities were just too mismatched. Ludwig despised his brother most of the time for being so wild and irresponsible, and his brother could barely stand Ludwig's tendency to take things seriously, often calling him a stick-in-the-mud. But one thing could be said about his brother; whenever Ludwig was in serious danger, he would do anything in his power to help him, even if it meant risking his own life. They weren't even blood brothers and he would do that much, yet Lovino couldn't bring himself to even consider doing the same for his own twin.

"As long as you don't get in my way, I don't care what you do," Ludwig told him curtly before addressing the other two, "Miss, please allow me to accompany you to my master's manor. Antonio, let's go."

"Oh... okay," said Bella forlornly.

Antonio lingered back for a while, looking at Lovino as if expecting him to change his mind, but Lovino pointedly avoided everyone's eyes. With a sad sigh, Antonio followed after Ludwig and Bella, quietly closing the door behind him.

oOo

Once Antonio, Bella, and Ludwig left him alone, Lovino dropped his mask of stubborn nonchalance and almost collapsed in despair. This nightmare never did end, did it? Feliciano, Natalia, everyone kept haunting him no matter how much he tried to get away.

Those three, especially that foreign bastard, probably thought he was a coward and didn't care about his brother at all. Only one of those two things was true. He had tried, really tried, to make himself not care about his brother, to forget that he even existed, but it was no use. He was also ready to admit – in the privacy of his mind only – that he felt an ungodly envy towards his twin. He dearly wished to hate him, from the bottom of his heart.

Yet, the mere thought of Feliciano at Natalia's mercy, suffering a punishment that had been meant for Lovino all along, was enough to make his blood run cold. No matter how resentful he felt towards Feliciano, it didn't sit right with him. He wouldn't have wished Natalia's wrath on his worst enemy, let alone his own brother.

However, he wasn't stupid enough to think that barging into the Russos' territory and fighting their little army was a remotely feasible idea. Now everyone he had once cared about was going to die and it was probably all his fault. Unless he did something about it. He hadn't been able to stop those two idiots from going to that suicidal mission – at least Bella was safe, thank God for small favours – but he could still savage the situation somewhat.

Unfortunately, he could only think of one thing, the only people who might be willing to help him without asking inconvenient questions. This wasn't a decision to be taken lightly, though. His companions wouldn't have approved, which was why he had not dared to bring it up in the conversation. He knew they would have been scandalized at the mere suggestion of such an idea and accuse him of insanity. They would never understand.

But desperate times called for desperate measures. There was no other way. This was something he needed to do, not only to save his brother and his friends, but also to save himself. He couldn't go on the rest of his life running away, living in fear, waiting to be caught and killed. He just wanted all this to be over, and if this was the only way to put an end to it, then so be it. And he needed to act quickly before Antonio and Feliciano got themselves killed.


	9. Fall and Rise

**A/N**: I was going to split this chapter into two, but then I decided I might as well get the first arc done right away so I can focus completely on the second one. Ah, this chapter might not be what you were expecting, though. I mean, if you were expecting any great acts of badassery or some really epic fight... I'm sorry.

Still, I am very grateful for the reviews! Many thanks also to those who have faved this story!

* * *

– **CHAPTER 9 –**

_**Fall and Rise**_

"So, who do you want killed, Mr. Vargas?"

The air was impregnated with tobacco smoke, the atmosphere dark and dangerous just like the two men on the other side of the desk. The dim light reflected eerily on their stony faces as they stared intently at him right in the eyes. All in all, it made Lovino feel as though he had been arrested and brought in for a third-degree interrogation. Even that question had sounded like a threat.

He had to remind himself for the umpteenth time that he wasn't the one who was going to get killed – not today, at least – and that these men had not come after him. Rather, _he_ had come after _them_. He made an effort to swallow his nervousness. It wouldn't do to show weakness in front of these people. Their sort didn't take kindly to weakness, and they could smell it a mile away.

"Natalia Russo, the youngest daughter of Count Russo," he spoke with a perfectly steady voice and watched as the two men sitting before him exchanged subtly puzzled, yet clearly suspicious, looks.

From what Lovino had heard, this was one of the most powerful, most influential families around these parts, though deeply involved in the affairs of the underworld. The head of the family, Mr. Gianturco, more commonly known as "Il Sadico", practically owned this entire city. Most likely, he wasn't used to not recognising names of people who were supposed to be remotely important, such as the daughter of a count.

"I know of the Russos, of course," he said, his eyes as cold and calculating as his voice. "And I know the count has a daughter called Caterina. But I have never heard of a second daughter by the name of Natalia."

"I'm not surprised you haven't," said Lovino, once again managing to keep his tone matter-of-fact even though he felt more than a little unnerved. "The count wouldn't want to expose someone who belongs in a mental asylum. That woman is a sadistic, bloodthirsty witch. I'm surprised he never disowned her." Carefully, very carefully so as to show he wasn't about to pull a gun or anything of the sort, he reached inside his pocked and pulled out a sketchy drawing he had made before coming here, then handed it out to Il Sadico. "That's why I drew this portrait of her, so there will be no mistake." It wasn't as good as if, say, Feliciano had been the one to draw it, but it would do.

"She looks like a cute little doll," remarked Il Sadico's right-hand man rather prosaically, earning unimpressed stares from both his boss and Lovino. He coughed and lowered his head sheepishly. "I just meant she doesn't look like the sadistic, bloodthirsty witch that Mr. Vargas was telling us about..." he mumbled.

The awkward silence extended for a minute longer, until Lovino finally broke it by taking a bag with some of the money he had stolen from Ludwig and setting it on the table between him and Il Sadico.

"As agreed, I'll pay half now and the other half after the job is done."

"Very well, Mr. Vargas."

"This isn't nearly enough," said his right-hand man after a brief inspection of the contents of the bag.

Lovino scowled at him. He still had some money with him, but he didn't want to give it all away at once. He thoughtfully touched the wedding ring that he still wore even after all this time. Many times since that fateful day, he had fought the urge to throw it away, for he knew it was worth quite a fortune; it had been bought by Count Russo himself. Now was the perfect opportunity to finally get rid of it while giving it some actual use. He had no reason to be reluctant to part from it.

Resolutely, he took it off and slapped it down on the table. After the right-hand man examined it and deemed it genuine and quite valuable, the ring and the money were put away and the three men rose.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Vargas," said Il Sadico as they shook hands. "We will begin the preparations for this job right away."

Lovino muttered a word of thanks and quickly excused himself, anxious to get away from those two dangerous men and this stifling, smoke-stinking room. One of Il Sadico's underlings escorted him outside. Lovino felt as though he were exiting the back door of Hell.

Once left alone outside, he took a few breaths of fresh air and mounted his – formerly Ludwig's – horse, pondering what to do next.

He thought of Antonio and Bella as he recalled their conversation at the cathedral. Embarrassment at being caught singing in such earnest might have clouded his judgement a little at the time and got him into a bad, defensive mood. However, now that he was alone and had calmed down considerably, he wondered about what they had said to him back then about what had happened in Pontebianco.

"It was all a misunderstanding," Antonio had said. Damn _right_ it had been a misunderstanding! Lovino knew he had anger issues and often said a lot of things he didn't mean in the heat of the moment, but he was sure he hadn't been overly rude or insulting towards Bella, especially not so as to warrant a beating from an enraged Antonio. Moreover, if he thought about it carefully, it wasn't like Bella to make up those lies just to get back at someone she supposedly loved, no matter how hurt she felt.

Now seemed as good a time as any to clear this up with Bella herself. The fact that both Antonio and Ludwig were absent only made it more convenient. Besides, with both Antonio and Feliciano in danger, and Bella left behind, all alone, she must be beside herself with worry. She was probably crying, too, sensitive girl that she was. If all went well, Lovino could offer her some comfort, if nothing else.

After asking around for directions, he soon found what was supposed to be his brother's manor. Contrary to his expectations, the building actually looked quite tasteful and discreet, while still maintaining an air of ostentatious wealth and elegance. Just like its former owner, he supposed.

He hesitated a little in front of the door before he knocked. A young, charming maid opened it and looked very pleasantly surprised to see him. Lovino smiled, equally pleased and surprised that the mere sight of him had such an effect on her.

"Oh, Lord Vargas! Welcome back! We were all so worried about you! Miss Giannini told me you'd been kidnapped! Thank God you're all right!"

Lovino's smile fell right off his face, and he could feel a twitch in his eye. He had forgotten how utterly infuriating it felt to be mistaken for his brother. Honestly, was everyone _blind_? Sure, they did look alike – after all, they were brothers – but they weren't completely identical! Were they?

Because this was a woman, he refrained from attacking her, either physically or even verbally, and forced the smile to revive, though he wasn't entirely successful.

"I am not Feliciano," he said through gritted teeth, hands itching to break something. "I am his twin brother Lovino."

"Oh, Mr. Lovino Vargas!" the maid gasped, blushing in embarrassment. "I am so sorry, sir! A thousand apologies! It's just that—you look _just like_ Lord Vargas! I'd heard that you were twins, but I never thought it was possible for two people to look so absolutely identical! Come in, sir, come in!"

"Thank you," he said, stepping inside and fuming. "Incidentally, I don't look just like Feliciano; _he_ is the one who looks like me. And we are not identical! I trust you will learn to see the many differences between us with time."

"Actually, I think I can already see two major differences, sir."

"Oh?"

"Your fashion sense and personality are completely different from Lord Vargas'!"

_This woman—!_ Lovino dropped all pretence of cordiality and glowered openly at the maid. One would expect a servant to know how to hold her tongue in front of her betters. Only someone as soft as Feliciano would keep her around.

"Er... W-would you like something to drink, sir?" asked the maid, wringing her hands nervously under his smouldering glare.

"No, thank you. I want to see Bella, I mean, Isabella Giannini. I heard she was brought here."

"Ah, indeed, sir," said the maid with a nod, although she suddenly looked even more nervous. "But I'm afraid she's not here any more. She just left."

"What?" he burst out, with a cold feeling in his stomach. "And... when is she coming back?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"She said she was going to help save Lord Vargas. I-I'm sorry, sir, I tried to stop her, I really did, but she wouldn't listen to me!"

His heart sank. Just as he had feared, then. Why did Bella keep doing this? First to save him, now to save Feliciano. What was she thinking? Well, obviously, she wasn't thinking at all, or she would have known better than to risk her life like that. She was as bad as Antonio, if not worse. At least Antonio was male and strong and could hold his own in a fight, but Bella would definitely get killed before she even saw it coming. Was she trying to prove something? That she was brave, maybe? Well, this wasn't bravery; it was stupidity, plain and simple!

He had to stop her. He had to go after her, stop her, and drag her back to the manor, where it was safe. If he hurried up now, maybe he could still catch up with her before she trod on dangerous territory. Without another word to the maid, Lovino ran out of the house, shouting a stream of vile epithets, mounted his horse again, and galloped out of the city.

oOo

"My master's brother did raise a valid point about us being outnumbered. We should make use of stealth in this task."

Antonio was disappointed. Sure, he was the type of guy that everyone thought was nice and peace-loving, gullible, slow to anger, never held grudges, liked to help people, etc. But, in reality, he rather liked some action now and then. He had become quite adept at fighting after having to stand up for the Vargas brothers against bullies so many times in their childhood, and then joining Lovino in brawls against jealous boyfriends and suitors – when Lovino flirted with all the girls in the town and then was blatantly rude to men who perceived him as a rival, blood was guaranteed to be spilled. And Antonio had found he actually enjoyed fighting. Not because he took pleasure in hurting others, not at all, but unless things got too far, it could be rather fun, invigorating, just like any other sport. If he could help a friend in the process, all the better! Also, it impressed the girls when he came out victorious.

Aside from those occasional brawls, however, he didn't get the opportunity to fight very often. For that reason, he had been rather looking forward to beating up some thugs in order to save Feliciano. What nobler cause was there to fight for? It had sounded really exciting, so that even the normally friendly, cool-tempered Antonio had felt his blood boil in anticipation.

And now, he was being told they needed to use stealth. Definitely not his cup of tea. Antonio just couldn't do stealth, even if he tried. Even Lovino, who was so very clumsy, was far better at it than him.

"Yeah. Sure. Okay. I'll do my best," he mumbled, more to himself than to Ludwig. Then, addressing Ludwig more clearly, he said, "Let's try going in through the back door. They're probably guarding only the front door."

"That would be imprudent of them," said Ludwig, with a frown. "Why wouldn't they guard the back door?"

"Only servants use it! No one else remembers it's there. I bet neither Natalia nor Lovino even know where it is."

"If you say so. Lead the way, then."

Antonio tried to mimic Ludwig's stealthy movements, but it was a little difficult when he had to lead the way.

"Maybe we should wait for nightfall?" he suggested. Ludwig shushed him sharply, because, apparently, Antonio had spoken too loudly. He rested his case.

"There is no time," Ludwig whispered to him. "From what I understand, Lady Russo plans to torture Lord Vargas. She might start it any minute now. She could be doing it as we speak, in fact! It'll still be a couple of hours till nightfall. We cannot afford to wait; it is too great a risk."

"Okay, okay, you do have a point," Antonio said and was again berated for being too loud. He took a deep, calming breath and made a great effort to be quieter. "I'm as anxious to save Feliciano as you are. But this would be so much easier if it were dark outside."

"It can't be helped, so there is no point in dwelling on it. Now, where is the back door?"

"Almost there."

Despite his belief that no one would remember to guard the back door, Antonio was still quite surprised to find that it was indeed completely deserted in the back and they probably didn't even need to try being inconspicuous. Antonio was happy with this turn of events, because it meant he didn't have to worry about attracting unwanted attention and botching up this rescue mission. Ludwig, on the other hand, was forever tense and his frown had deepened in a rather frightening way, though he offered no further comment.

With varying degrees of wariness, they sneaked up to the door, which Ludwig carefully creaked open. After making sure that there was no one around, he opened it fully and beckoned at Antonio to follow after him. Ludwig made a few more gestures to him and gave him meaningful looks, and after a moment of confusion, Antonio finally understood that he was supposed to be take the lead again. He was quite familiar with this part of the house, after all, whereas Ludwig had never even set foot in it before.

Even after they left the servants' area, the house still appeared to be deserted. Slowly, Antonio began to relax.

"This will be easier than I thought!" he said, loud and clear.

_Click! Click! Click! Click! Click!_

"Oh, shit," he grumbled, his shoulders slumping.

"I knew it!" Ludwig said through gritted teeth, his whole body rigid as a ramrod.

"Hands up, gentleman," came Natalia's sickly sweet voice from behind.

They obeyed, not resisting at all when two men came to strip them of their weapons.

"Wait a minute," said Antonio as Natalia finally walked around them and into their field of vision, pointing a gun at him. "I was sure this room was empty! Did you materialize out of thin air or something?"

She gave him a smug smile. "Unlike uncouth peasants such as yourself, Mr. Carriedo, this family has mastered the noble art of subtlety."

"Call me what you like. At least I'm not a snake like you," he retorted.

"Mr. Carriedo, I really don't think you are in any position to be throwing insults at me. You have no eyes on the back of your head, so perhaps you fail to understand your current situation. Let me help you, then. There are seven guns pointing at your head right now, including this one I am holding. If you so much as twitch or glance at your friend over there, your brain will be decorating the walls of this room the next instant."

Antonio resisted the sudden, almost overwhelming urge to twitch or glance at Ludwig. He also dearly wished to look back to see if there were really all those guns pointing at him, because he was sure he hadn't heard that many clicks. However, looking back like that would be worse than twitching, and he knew for a fact that there was at least one gun pointing at him, so he decided he really should just stand still and breathe quietly for now.

"So, where is Mr. Vargas? I thought I had left explicit instructions for my letter to be delivered to him and only him."

"He's not coming," said Antonio with an air of defiance. He had been disheartened when Lovino had refused so adamantly to join them in this mission, but now he was very glad that Lovino had stayed behind, or else he would have been caught along with Antonio and Ludwig. Just as he had predicted. "I guess he was right. Maybe we should have thought this through."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Mr. Carriedo. Even if you had tried to think this through, the result would have still been the same. You actually spared yourselves the trouble." Natalia frowned and tightened her hold on the gun, shifting a little restlessly. "I am quite disappointed, though. I actually expected Mr. Vargas to show up to save his brother. I suppose I underestimated his cowardice. Why come here himself when he could just send you two buffoons, right? But no matter! Now I have his brother _and _his dear friend. Surely he will show his face now! And if he doesn't—" her features suddenly twisted into an expression of wicked delight, her eyes glinting with madness "—I can just pretend that his twin brother is him to satisfy myself for the moment. Perhaps I could experiment on him, so that when I get my hands on the real Lovino Vargas, I will know exactly how to inflict the most excruciating, agonizing punishment on him."

"Over my dead body!" Ludwig burst out and began to charge at Natalia, but froze in this tracks when she pointed the gun at him instead and at least four more clicks were heard echoing around the room. Where _had _all those snipers come from and why could he see not a single one?

"That can be easily arranged, so I suggest you think carefully before you decide to do anything funny," Natalia told him. "I assume you are Ludwig? I have nothing against you, but neither will I hesitate to shoot you should you threaten me again." She snapped her fingers and a moment later two huge men were holding both Antonio and Ludwig from behind, restraining them.

"Get them out of my sight," she ordered them. "I will give Mr. Vargas one more day. If he doesn't show up by sunset tomorrow, his brother and his friend will be the ones to pay the price."

oOo

Lovino cursed under his breath. Then cursed again. And again. And one more time for good measure. He was dead. So very, very dead. He had been so desperate to stop Bella from running to her death, so focused on catching up with her, that by the time he remembered to mind his surroundings, he was already back in Monterosso. He had no illusions about there being the most remote possibility of him getting away again. No, he had been lucky enough to escape the first time around, and considering his history, he could safely say that he wasn't the luckiest person in the world, so he certainly wouldn't be as lucky a second time.

"I can't believe you made me come back to this place!" he snapped once he finally caught up with Bella, though that was only possible because she had stopped for the first time since she had left Terraverde. "Are you _trying_ to get us all killed?"

"Lovino? What are you doing here?" Bella blinked, visibly surprised to see him. Honestly, sometimes she was so much like Antonio that it frightened Lovino. He had been following her for the past couple of hours and she hadn't noticed it at all?

"We weren't supposed to have got this far! I meant to drag you back to Terraverde before it was too late, but now, guess what, _it's too late_!"

Bella stared at him for a while, as if unable to comprehend what he was saying. Then, a bright grin graced her face, and she said, "Oh, Lovino, I'm so happy you changed your mind and decided to come and join us!"

"I didn't come here for that!" he spluttered. "Didn't you listen to a single word I just said, damn it?"

"Of course I did, and that was really sweet of you. Coming all the way here, despite all the dangers, just to make sure I'd be all right..." she said shyly, her cheeks tinted rosy pink. She looked so cute and innocent right then that Lovino almost forgave her for being an idiot. However, she broke the spell when her grin turned a little devious and she said, "And since you're already here, you might as well join us in helping your brother, right?"

"Like hell I'm going to do that! I don't want to die just yet!"

"Well, all right..." She heaved a disappointed sigh. "If you're too scared, I understand. I'll go ahead, then, and you can go back to Terraverde and wait for us there."

"I'm _not _scared!" he yelled when she turned her back to him and proceeded to the Russo manor. He hesitated another second, considering how contradicting he must seem if he claimed he wasn't scared but couldn't even bring himself to follow a lady to stop her from running into danger. "God fucking damn it!" he grumbled and ran after her. "I'm not scared. I'm not. I'm not afraid of a woman," he kept repeating, as if it might become true if he said it enough times. "Even if that woman happens to have a gun and a vast collection of knives and whips and thugs and no sanity to speak of..." he added, his voice dying along with his determination when they entered the manor.

"You tell them, Lovino!" said Bella. Unlike him, she appeared to be quite excited about diving head-first into her doom. "I know you are a very brave man deep down, and you will show them that they can't scare us! We're stronger than them!"

"Yeah, sure. Sure. Okay. They'll be here any time now, anyway. She won't kill me right away, so there'll be time. Yeah. Yeah. It's all right. Everything will be all right," he told himself, his speech as jittery as he felt. He had the sudden urge to curl up in a corner and cry. "This is so stupid. Those idiots are not worth my life, damn it..."

"Did you say something?"

"No, nothing! Just thinking out loud!"

"Oh, okay. Say, don't you think it's kind of quiet in here? I thought you said this manor was heavily guarded?"

Lovino had become eerily aware of that fact when he had crossed the open gate and then entered the manor and, a few minutes later, had still found himself conscious, breathing, and free of pain. On the one hand, it was a good thing that he was still alive and well, but on the other hand, he kept expecting someone to jump up from the next corner or piece of furniture just like last time, and the suspense was killing him more slowly than Natalia could ever hope to do. It was almost bad enough for him to wish that someone _would _show up already.

"Well, this is a little disappointing," commented Bella. "But I guess it makes our lives easier, so I won't complain. Let's go and find—oh, hello there!" she waved to the figure who had just seemed to materialize out of the shadows. Lovino almost died on the spot at the sight. "What's your name? Do you work here?"

"Shit, it's Natalia!" Lovino shouted and grabbed Bella's arm to shake her and try to get her marbles to rearrange themselves back into good sense.

"Oh, dear. I never did take a good look at her face. Is that really her? She's so cute! A lot cuter than me. No wonder you married her," Bella babbled in a rather sullen tone, staring at the statuesque Natalia from head to toe before looking down at herself. She pouted. "Her clothes are really pretty, too..."

"Y-you're much prettier than she could ever hope to be!" Lovino tried to reassure her, speaking mostly out of instinct. He really couldn't help it; it was an automatic response to jealous females with low self-esteem fishing for compliments. Then, as soon the words were out of his mouth, he blushed and felt like hitting his head repeatedly on the wall. This was so not the time to talk about this, and it certainly didn't help his situation with Natalia at all. He could tell by the twitch in her eye and the derisive curl of her lip as she gave Bella the sort of look normally reserved for cockroaches and rats. "Listen, just shut up, okay? You're getting her mad!"

"Are you sure that's her? No one who looks that cute could be as vicious as you say—"

"Of course I'm sure, damn it!"

"I see. So you've got a new girlfriend," Natalia said, her voice soft and void of inflection. "You really are a manslut, aren't you? You cheated on me a few weeks after our marriage, and now, a few days after I swore to kill you in revenge, you're already traipsing around with yet another woman? Have you no shame at all?"

"Okay, I take back what I said," whispered Bella, holding onto Lovino for dear life. "She does look pretty scary all of a sudden!"

"I told you!" he whispered back, also holding onto her for dear life.

"There is only one cure for your problem, you know," Natalia went on, a sickly, perverse smile making its slow way into her face. She held up a knife that had also appeared seemingly out of thin air and turned it around, its blade glowing momentarily in the light of the setting sun. "I'll go through with my promise to you from our honeymoon. I'll cut them off so that you will never be interested in another woman again. Not that you will live much longer after that to feel bitter about it." She let out a quiet, dissonant laugh that sent shivers down Lovino's spine.

"You're sick!" Bella cried. "Lovino, do something! She's getting closer!"

"And then I will kill your brother, and your friend, and finally your girlfriend, all in front of your eyes, so you can die tormented by guilt from knowing that their lives were sacrificed because of you," Bella went on, her eyes almost completely glazed as she lost herself in some twisted, bloody fantasy. "Too bad dear Valentina will not be able to join us. I suppose I was a little hasty in killing her so quickly."

Lovino froze, tightening his hold on Bella without quite realising it.

"You did what?" he asked in a whisper, unwilling to accept what he had just heard. He hadn't thought about Valentina in a very long time; it just had never occurred to him that she might also have been targeted because of this affair. In retrospect, it seemed very naïve to think otherwise.

"You heard me," said Natalia. "Oh, I wish you had seen her. The poor thing, she didn't even know who I was or why she had to die! I was so angry that I pulled the trigger before I could say anything." That distorted, unnatural laugh again. "She never knew she was to die because of you!"

His heart clenched. Valentina... She'd been a whore and he had never felt anything for her – she had given him pleasure for one night and that had been it – but she'd still been a human being, a young girl with feelings like any other female. She hadn't deserved this fate, to have her life taken from her in such an abrupt manner for a reason she hadn't even been aware of. All because of him.

No. Not because of him. He had not killed her. It was Natalia's fault. Valentina had nothing to do with this; she had only been doing her job, scorned though it might be by society. Natalia had only gone after her because she was a vengeful monster.

Natalia was only a step away now. Without really thinking, Lovino shoved Bella away from him with one shaking hand and with the other he took the gun he had stolen from Ludwig to point it between Natalia's eyes. It angered him even more that she didn't even flinch when the cold metal touched her skin. Her knife clattered to the floor when she dropped it, but other than that, she showed no sign of surprise at all.

"Damn you! God damn you to hell, you fucking bitch! You had no right! No right!" he ranted at her, pressing the gun more forcefully against her brow, hoping to get some kind of response, even the slightest hint of fear. However, she just stared at him impassively, until she finally blinked and tears ran down her pale cheeks. Her eyes were still glassy, lost in a haze of madness.

"Go ahead," she whispered, her voice very quiet, almost inaudible, yet so full of spite that it took even Lovino aback. "Aren't you going to shoot me? Bastard. I will see you in hell. You won't get rid of me so easily. I hate you. I hate you so much. I have hated you from the first moment I set my eyes on you. I have hated you since I first heard your name. You took my father from me. You took my pride from me. You took my life from me. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. Hate you. Hate you. Hate you. Hate you."

She seemed to have broken some kind of limit to her madness, her mind imprisoned by that one thought that she kept repeating. Lovino wanted to pull the trigger to silence her once and for all, but that interminable, dull chanting was echoing in synchrony with the same words he had uttered so many times in his lifetime, those last words to his grandfather so long ago, and also to his own brother earlier that day.

For the first time, it occurred to him that perhaps he was partly to blame for his wife's fall into insanity. It was true that he had commited a horrible sin and done something very cruel to her. She had never wanted to marry him in the first place; all she had ever wanted was continue living with her beloved father, the one person she truly cared about. But even her father had rejected her, had attempted to get rid of her by arranging a marriage with someone she hated and forcing her to inherit property she had never wished for. Had their love always been so one-sided?

All of a sudden, Lovino could picture what her childhood must have been like. Little Natalia trying to get her father's attention, trying to make him proud of her, trying to make him love her. And failing. He wouldn't even look at her. She was too clingy. She was too obsessive. She was too unsociable. She was a burden to him. She had to be kept away. He would have put her into an asylum, but even he couldn't bring himself to do such a thing to his own daughter.

_I know the count has a daughter called Caterina. But I have never heard of a second daughter by the name of Natalia._

He could imagine it all too well. Caterina must have been the favourite daughter, always used as a model to compare the two sisters. Caterina always being better at everything, a daughter to be truly proud of and boast about to the entire county, whereas her sister, her violent, unapproachable, eccentric sister, was never mentioned, was kept away at home, hidden from the public like some kind of freak of nature.

Wasn't that exactly what had happened to Lovino himself? Abandoned by his grandfather, whose attention and love he had failed to gain, constantly compared to his brother and coming out defeated every single time, kept away at home, at the orphanage, or at the monastery because he was either too unsociable, too inadequate, or too sickly to go out and mingle with people, being forced to sneak out in secret? Dominated by hatred and repeating those three despicable words – _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you_ – all the time, to everyone who ever hurt him?

If he was going to shoot Natalia, he might as well shoot himself, because right now, as he gazed upon her, it felt like looking in a mirror, a mirror that showed his future. Was this what he would eventually become, once his mind was completely consumed by hatred and resentment?

He lowered the gun, unable to meet her gaze any more. Part of him screamed, he really was useless, he couldn't even shoot the person who had ruined his life and sworn to kill him as well as everyone he had ever cared about.

Taking advantage of his hesitation, Natalia quickly reached behind where she kept her own gun concealed and with one swift movement struck him with the handle, knocking him down. After kicking his gun out of his hand and well out of reach, she pinned him to the floor by stepping on his chest with her high-heeled boot and pointed her own gun at him.

"You really _are_ a pathetic worm! Just die, damn you!"

"No! Leave him alone!" Bella screeched, throwing herself against Natalia.

The young Russo must have completely forgotten about Bella's presence amidst the madness in her mind, for she didn't even react to the sudden attack and fell back under Bella's weight, accidentally pulling the trigger in the process and shooting the ceiling. The two girls wrestled on the floor, and if it were a less dire situation, Lovino would have taken a moment to watch such an unusual and interesting display.

As it was, he didn't even have the time to do something about it himself. By the time he got back on his feet, Natalia had struck Bella on the head and appeared to knock her out. Lovino was halfway to his gun when Natalia turned to him with her own gun back in hand and pointed it at him. Some distance behind Natalia, two of her thugs had just come in carrying one gun in each hand.

_Oh, shit_, he thought. This was it. Even a miracle couldn't save him when it was one weapon-less man against three armed people. He was going to die now, along with poor Bella, his brother, Antonio, and even that foreign bastard.

A shot rang out. Lovino shut his eyes, waiting for the pain to hit him, but after a few seconds, he was still unharmed. He hesitantly opened his eyes and saw Natalia's wide eyes, clear of all insanity for the first time. The gun dropped from her trembling hands as her body collapsed, blood oozing from the hole in her chest and staining her pretty dress. Lovino watched as the awareness in her eyes, tragically short-lived, gave way to the dull gaze of death.

Tearing his eyes out of the disturbing sight, he turned to see where that bullet had come from. Not from one of her thugs, certainly. No, it was a newcomer by the door, already preparing to take his leave. It must be one of the assassins Lovino had hired. So, they had _finally _arrived, after taking their sweet time.

A second shot rang out and the assassin grunted, falling to the floor. Fortunately, he quickly recovered and tried to shoot the thug that had got him. Next thing Lovino knew, there were ten men on one side and five on the other – where had all these people come from? – and bullets were whizzing back and forth over his head, some hitting a little too close to his person for comfort. He snatched his gun back, took cover, and began to shoot at Natalia's men until he ran out of bullets, which happened all too soon. At one point, he saw Bella, having recovered consciousness, crawling over to Natalia's gun and loading it with some difficulty to join in on the shoot-out.

Good grief, she would never learn, would she?

oOo

"I'm sorry I failed you, my lord," said Ludwig, his head lowered.

"Don't be so hard on yourself! You did your best!" said Feliciano, sounding a little too cheerful for someone who was tied up and at gunpoint. "Hey, you can still get us out of here! I can distract them while you get yourself free and strike them from behind! Huh? How does that sound? It's a great plan, isn't it?"

"Um. Feliciano. They can hear you, you know," Antonio pointed out, throwing the increasingly vexed thugs nervous glances. "They speak our language, so they understand every word you're saying."

"Are you sure? I didn't know trolls understood human language," said Feliciano. In response, the thug closest to him growled and poked him with his gun as if ready to shoot. Feliciano screamed and cried. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! Please don't shoot me! I have relatives in Monterosso! Well, one relative, but still—"

"Yes, and that relative just happens to be their worst enemy!" Ludwig snapped.

"Aw, Ludwig, why did you have to remind them of that!"

"You—You're such an idiot! I can't believe you're my master!"

Before things got out of control and took a tragic turn, the door was kicked open and a group of shady-looking men carrying several guns rushed in, hitting each thug with precise shots. Feliciano was near hysterical, but he calmed down when he realised that the strange newcomers were untying the prisoners and returning their confiscated swords.

"What? What?" asked Antonio in utter confusion. Now that the door was open, he could hear several screams and shots somewhere downstairs. "What?" he asked again, and he would keep asking until someone offered an explanation.

"We're done here! Let's go!" one of the men told his comrades and they filed out of the room in a rush. More shots were heard in the hallway they were in.

"I have a very bad feeling about this," murmured Ludwig.

Antonio took one look at his sword and the gun that had been handed to him. He could only assume he was supposed to use them.

"Sounds exciting!" he exclaimed.

oOo

The minutes – or maybe few hours – following the beginning of the shooting passed as a blur to Lovino. After he ran out of bullets, he tried to keep himself safe undercover, praying for it all to be over soon. Sometimes, curiosity would get the better of him and he could take a peek around the room to try to guess which side was winning. The third time he looked, Bella was nowhere to be seen, but at least he didn't see her bleeding body anywhere. He could only assume – or at least hope – that she had followed his example and taken cover after she had run out of bullets as well.

When it seemed as though it was going to be over soon, Antonio and Ludwig joined in and the battle resumed. Feliciano never showed up, or at least Lovino didn't see him, though he did hear the echo of his panicked wails. Would these thugs and those hired assassins never run out of bullets? Was this going to go on for ever and ever?

Eventually, all the noise became a distant buzz in his ears and he just felt too tired to deal with it any more, or maybe he had finally passed out from sheer terror, or had another attack, or got shot and died. All he knew was that one moment he had been surrounded by chaos, and then he must have lost consciousness for a while, because when he came to, all was silent and there were a pair of hands shaking him.

"Lovino? Lovino! Wake up! Are you hurt?" an annoying voice kept calling and asking him. Lovino groaned and made a half-hearted attempt at batting the hands away.

"Th' fuh' d'you wan', damn it..." he slurred.

"Lovino, come on, we've got to go home!"

Lovino had no idea where "home" was supposed to be, but with some effort and a little help from Antonio, he rose to his feet and took a look around. It was quite dark, a sign that the sun had fully set. There were some dead bodies around the room – though none of them were any of his friends, thank God – and the furniture was almost completely destroyed. Ludwig was nursing a few wounds, with Feliciano fussing over him until he saw his brother was awake and came over to talk to him.

"Hey, Lovino, I'm glad to see you're still alive! That was really crazy, huh? All those scary people shooting at each other and you and Bella were right in the middle of it! And then Ludwig and Antonio joined in, and I tried not to get too close, because it was so scary! But I found a gun and I tried to help a little! I'd never tried to shoot anyone before! It was so exciting! I only shot once, and I missed! I hit that vase over there! Impressive, huh? Um, you don't look so good, Lovino? Are you listening to me?"

Lovino opened his mouth to reply, but only a disoriented, wordless moan came out of it. He tried again after a few breaths.

"Is it over? Is—is Natalia dead?" he asked, not really willing to look at her body again to confirm it with his own eyes just yet.

"Hm, I don't know about her, but, um, yeah, it's over! We can go home now!"

Despite himself, Lovino glanced back over his shoulder to get a glimpse of Natalia's body as Antonio, supporting part of his weight, led him outside. He never had the chance to see anything, though, for Ludwig was the last to leave the house and blocked his sight, then quickly shut the door behind him. Lovino sighed. Maybe it was for the best. It was finally over and he could, at long last, leave all that behind. He couldn't pretend it had never happened, but he would damn well try his best.

"Are you all right, Bella?" he asked her when she came to walk next to him. Her entire body was shaking, but she had a small, tentative smile on her face.

"Th-that was—the scariest, most terrifying thing that has ever happened to me!" she said. Lovino was about to say something comforting to the poor traumatized girl, but then she added, "And also the most exciting! I-I'm still feeling a little... I don't know, a little euphoric! I almost wish I could do it again!"

"Miss, did you shoot anyone?" Feliciano asked her.

"Oh, Feliciano, I don't think we've ever been properly introduced before, though I've heard a lot about you! My name is Isabella Giannini, but you can call me Bella. All my friends do. And to answer your question, I don't know if I shot anyone. I wasn't really looking!" She and Feliciano laughed, and even Antonio joined in. Ludwig looked like he was trying to pretend he wasn't listening, and Lovino just hid his face with his palm. How had they got out of there alive with all these—these bumbling _idiots_?

"Lovino," Antonio called him in a quieter voice, and when Lovino looked at him, his expression was tired, but content. "You came to help us after all, and it was very brave of you. I'm proud of you. You're a true friend."

Lovino flushed and looked away, unable to take the compliment that deep down he had always wished for, but at the same time unable to refute it. He didn't deserve it. He didn't feel brave at all, in fact. He had only come this far by accident, because of Bella, and they had only won this fight thanks to the help he had hired. He, himself, had done nothing. He couldn't even shoot Natalia when he had the chance. He was still a useless coward.

"That's true, you were very brave to come here," he heard Bella say. Rather than sound like a swooning admirer, her tone was that of a gentle mother. "But to me, your bravest moment was when you chose not to shoot Natalia."

He looked up at that out of shock. He had just been thinking about how that had been his greatest moment of weakness, and here Bella was claiming the exact opposite?

Seeing his and the others' confusion, she smiled and explained, "It takes great courage and strength of spirit to have mercy on your worst enemy. You once told me what a bad person you are... But what you did today can only prove that you really _are_ a good person, Lovino. If you were really as weak, spiteful, and selfish as you say, you'd have fallen into the temptation of killing her. And that would have sullied your soul. She was not worth that."

Beautiful words, but the didn't make him feel any better. If anything, they brought him even more shame. So what if he hadn't been the one to shoot Natalia? She was dead, anyway. Dead because he hired someone else to do the dirty job for him. What difference did it make? In a way, he was still the reason why she was dead. So much for his unsullied soul...

"I am grateful that we are all alive and that it is all over," said Ludwig, though the words didn't quite suit his monotone. "Even so, there is something I would like to know. Who were those people who saved us?"

"Yeah, I was also wondering about that..." mused Antonio, who, along with Feliciano and Bella, seemed to have not a clue. Ludwig, on the other hand, had pinned Lovino down with a hard stare.

"Just... just some friends I made in Terraverde," was all Lovino could bring himself to say, unable to look at any of them in the eyes.

"You make friends fast!" said Feliciano, impressed and still oblivious. Everyone but Ludwig accepted that answer and although Ludwig still threw Lovino suspicious, reproachful glares, the subject was completely dropped. While the other three chatted and recounted the recent events from their respective points of view, Lovino and Ludwig were tense and silent all the way home.

oOo

Much later that night, they finally arrived at Feliciano's manor, where they all had a meal – the first good meal that most of them had had in a very long time – and then taken a well-deserved rest. However, despite all the excitement, Lovino still woke up obscenely early in the morning, when the sky was still dark and decorated by thousands and thousands of stars. At least he hadn't had a nightmare – that he remembered – he just felt too agitated by the recent events to sleep for long.

Unable to fall back asleep and knowing it was pointless to stay in bed when he was like this, he got dressed and went to the balcony to watch the sky and the city of Terraverde, pondering that even the sky here looked more beautiful than in Monterosso. He tried to focus his thoughts on unimportant things like that; it was certainly better than thinking about what had happened last night, or the past few days. It was rather soothing, and he began to feel unusually relaxed.

After about an hour, he heard soft steps approaching him. From the corner of his eye, he saw his brother leaning over the balcony next to him, his fingers tapping on it in eagerness.

"Lovino! Lovino!" Feliciano called out after a few minutes of companionable silence, tugging at his brother's sleeve like an overexcited little child. "Um, I never really thought you'd come to help me from your kinky wife, but I'm glad you did, after all! You even brought help! I'm glad you don't hate me after all!" He tried to hug his brother, but Lovino pushed him away.

"Idiot! I didn't do it for you! I did it for myself. And for Bella. I was trying to _stop_ her from going there."

"If you say so! I know that deep down you love me as much as I love you! We're family, after all!" To Lovino's mild horror, Feliciano's bottom lip began to quiver and tears pooled at the corners of his squinted eyes. "I was really so scared that I would never be able to see you again! I really, really missed you all these years, as much as I missed Grandpa."

Lovino scoffed, but a smile was tugging at his lips. He turned his face away to hide his traitorous face, but patted his twin's head affectionately.

"Don't get all sappy on me now, you jerk," was all he said, in grumbling tones, but Feliciano's grinned as though he had just heard a tearful profession of fraternal love. Taking advantage of the fact that Lovino had averted his gaze, he glomped and hugged him with all his might, almost causing the both of them to fall over.

"What the fuck, Feliciano? Let me go!"

"I'm glad you've forgiven me, whatever it is that I did wrong."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

Feliciano pulled away and wriggled his hands as if a little shy. "You seemed pretty mad at me when we saw each other for the first time in years... and you said some really hurtful things. But it's okay, because I know you didn't mean them. I think. Um... I don't know why you were so mad at me, but I'm sorry."

Lovino stared at him for a moment before turning his face away again, not in rejection, but because he still didn't know how to feel about his brother. The jealousy and the resentment were still there, probably would always be, but he didn't want to let them take him over. His brother didn't even know why Lovino saw him in such a negative light; he was so innocent and kind that hating him felt like a sin.

Speaking of sins, Lovino supposed he was the one in the wrong, not Feliciano. Envy was a great sin. If anyone here should be apologising, it was him. And yet, here was his innocent brother, whose only crime had been to exist and excel at everything that Lovino couldn't.

Lovino still couldn't bring himself to apologise, though.

"Um..." Feliciano went on, fidgeting a little more. "I hope you can forgive Grandpa, too. Someday."

"What?" Lovino shifted irritably. Every time their grandfather was brought up, he felt ill at ease. Feliciano also looked nervous, but he was smiling sweetly, without a doubt recalling the days he had spent in the company of his beloved Grandpa.

"Do you know why he left you at the orphanage before he left me?"

Lovino immediately tensed, now pointedly avoiding Feliciano's eyes.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said through gritted teeth. "It's because he liked you better. I was a burden to him. A shame. I was never a talented artist like the both of you."

"Is that what you think? What you believed all this time?" Feliciano let out a sad sigh and rested a warm hand on Lovino's shoulder. "Do you still have the sickness?"

Lovino could feel the heat spreading all over his face, which he tried to hide even though it was too dark for his brother to notice it much anyway. Why was he bringing this up all of a sudden? Lovino hated talking about this. Hated with a passion. He didn't even say a word in response. Hopefully, his brother would get the hint and drop the subject. Alas, his hope was fruitless.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Feliciano. "That's too bad. That always made me really sad, you know. Not only because it gave you so much trouble, but also because it's what kept us apart when Grandpa grew too old."

Lovino perked up at that last part, though he still didn't look at his brother or say anything. What did he mean?

As if he could read his mind, Feliciano answered, "I think he always suspected there was something wrong with you. He once told me he had found you passed out a couple of times. He never caught you having an actual fit, but he suspected something. And he got really scared. He was really afraid that he couldn't help you. He really was too old and weak. He could barely take care of me." Feliciano sighed again. "He thought he was doing you a favour by leaving you in 'capable hands'. But I think he began to second-guess himself later on. I don't know what you said to him when he left you at the orphanage, but knowing you, I have a good idea... He was really hurt by it, you know."

That last sentence was like a dagger to Lovino's heart. As he would usually do when agitated, he responded with irritation.

"God damn it, Feliciano! How come I never heard anything about it at all? How long have you known that? Why did you never tell me? Why did _he_ never tell me anything? Don't you think I had the right to know?"

"I do, Lovino! I do!" said Feliciano sadly. "But... I guess Grandpa thought we were too young to understand at the time. He only told me all this when he was near his death. He tended to ramble a lot about things he regretted."

Lovino grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook him. "But why didn't you tell me? You and I lived under the same roof for years after the old man died, damn it!"

"You kept avoiding me!" said Feliciano, with the hint of a pout. "You didn't even want to acknowledge me as your brother most of the time! We were like complete strangers, and you didn't want to talk to me at all. You have no idea how much that hurt me."

Lovino stared into his brother's unusually serious, sorrowful eyes, looking eerily similar to his grandfather's eyes on that horrible day that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Again he felt compelled to apologise for hurting his brother, but he still couldn't do it. He just settled on letting go of him forcefully and turning away again, this time to hide the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. Now more than ever he felt so conflicted about grandfather...

"But I forgive you, because that's what family does," Feliciano went on. "What matters to me is that we're together again, and that you don't hate me any more. I can only hope you'll forgive Grandpa, too, and not hate him. We have to let go of the past and enjoy the present now that we're finally a family again."

"Are we?"

Feliciano gently coaxed Lovino to turn to face him again, bestowing upon him that angelic smile that could melt almost anyone's heart.

"Lovino, my brother, when I asked Ludwig to bring you here, I wanted to give you a nice surprise. I didn't want to gloat about my good fortune. I wanted to share it with you. I still do! My house is your house, my money is your money, my food is your food... This is now the Vargas estate, and you're a Vargas just like me, so you have the right to own this. I want us to live like a united family, just the way we are supposed to be."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lovino burst out and pulled away from his brother. "We're two adults now. There's no reason why we should live together any more, and I don't need your fucking charity! We grew up apart, so it's only natural we go our separate ways now."

"Won't you please reconsider?" Feliciano beseeched. "This is what Grandpa always wished for the two of us. To be a united family, living the life of noblemen – and nobility is in our blood, remember? Living in this beautiful, cultured city... It was one of Grandpa's dreams, and now we can make it true."

"Why should I give a flying fuck about that old bastard's dreams? Shit..." He sniffled, but adamantly fought not to let any tears fall. He hated to be as much of a crybaby as Feliciano, especially when he was already a grown-up man.

"At least stay with me for a while! Just to see how you like it. If it really doesn't work out... then... you can go, and I won't bother you ever again. But please, give me just one little chance! Pleeeease!"

"Ugh! Fine, fine, I'll stay just for a little while, if only to make you stop begging like a pathetic idiot."

Feliciano made a noise between a hurray and a squeal and hugged his brother again. Lovino just sighed and bore with it for now. Sure, he would give this a chance. Who knew, maybe he would even sort of almost grow to like it?

If nothing else, at least he got to live like a lazy nobleman, just as planned from the very beginning.

* * *

**A/N**: And here we end the **first arc**. I'm still working on the second arc and I plan on posting the new chapters only when I've finished the whole story, so this fic will be on hiatus for a while. To all my readers, thank you for sticking with it so far!


	10. The Party

**A/N**: I haven't really finished this arc, but since it's taking too long, I'll post the chapters as I write them, like I usually do. Also, thank you all for the reviews and faves!

* * *

– **CHAPTER 10 –**

_**The Party**_

March 17.

Lovino hated this day. It never failed to put him in a foul mood. Not that his mood wasn't always foul, but this day made it worse than usual.

As far as the world was concerned, it was Feliciano's birthday. Everyone would congratulate him in masses; sometimes, it was necessary for them to form queues. They would hug him, shower him with goodwill wishes and presents. There would be a big party and he would be the centre of all the attention.

No one ever remembered that, being twins, Lovino and Feliciano had _the same birthday_. It seemed like such an obvious thing, but people still failed to get it into their thick heads. If they happened to remember that small detail, or were reminded of it by one of the twins, they might offer Lovino an awkward, half-hearted, "Happy birthday to you, too, I guess," before turning their backs and going back to Feliciano.

Even when the two brothers had been separated, people would still either forget his birthday or briefly wish him a happy one before wondering about how Feliciano was doing. Lovino had almost got used to it after going through that every single year of his life, but now that the twins would be celebrating their birthday together for the first time in years, Lovino was reminded of just how deeply he hated this day.

True to tradition, Feliciano had already received goodwill wishes from all his servants and even some of his friends, but no one had approached Lovino yet. They _knew_ they were twins; he had been living in this house for a while now and the fact that he and Feliciano were twins had been mentioned several times, because everyone was shocked by how identical they looked and Feliciano kept showing him off as if he were some sort of prize. Even so, no one had made the connection. Or maybe they were giving him the cold shoulder. That wouldn't be a surprise, either.

Finally, he had grown sick of it and retired to his room, away from the servants who were bustling about making the preparations for the party, away from his annoying brother who just wouldn't stop humming "happy birthday to me" as he supervised and helped the servants.

He wasn't sulking. He just wanted to be alone before all the idiocy got to him.

The door slammed open behind him and he glowered, his gaze staring determinedly at the window. Who was the idiot who dared barge into his room and interrupt his sul—contemplation?

"Lovino! I've been looking for you!" said Feliciano in a grating singsong. "I didn't see you all day! Have you been sulking here all this time?"

"Contemplating. I've been contemplating. Idiot," muttered Lovino.

He heard a light thud behind him and the door being slammed shut. The next moment, Feliciano was standing before him with a radiant grin.

"What are you sul—er—contemplating about?"

"None of your fucking business!"

"I'm your brother! You can tell me! Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"No! Get the fuck out and don't interrupt me again!"

Feliciano stayed right where he was, that stupid grin still there on his face as he stared down at his brother.

"Hey, Lovino, are you jealous of me?" he burst out, nearly causing his twin to have a heart attack.

"What? What? Where the hell did that come from?" he spluttered. Since when was his brother the least bit perceptive?

"I asked Ludwig why you're always so angry and mean to me, especially when he and I are hanging out, and he said maybe it's because you're jealous of me," Feliciano explained, his tone still inappropriately cheerful given the subject. "So, is it true? Are you jealous of me?"

"Like hell I'm jealous of you! Who would be jealous of a goofy, brainless moron like you? And that foreign bastard should mind his own fucking business, God damn him! Why the hell do you even listen to that asshole, anyway?"

Feliciano was unfazed by the vehemence of this response.

"Aww, you shouldn't be jealous of me just because I'm a little better-looking and have had more girlfriends! After all, you used to live at a monastery! Besides, I'm sure that if you stopped scowling and sneering at people, you'd look about as handsome as me, and if you stopped cursing like a sailor all the time, people wouldn't be so scared to approach you!"

"Shut the hell up! You have no fucking idea what you're talking about! You just don't get it! Damn it!"

Feliciano bit his lip as if to keep himself from bursting into laughter. Lovino knew from experience in dealing with Antonio that his face must look quite a bit like a tomato right now. He could feel it burning up, as it always happened when he was angry and embarrassed at the same time. What really pained him was that no one could ever take him seriously when he looked like this. Even Feliciano felt like laughing at him, completely oblivious to how very upset his words had made him. In contrast, Lovino rather felt like crying.

Fortunately, Feliciano was able to control himself. His smile seemed to become a little muted, almost if he felt ashamed. He gingerly sat next to Lovino on the bed, his eyes on his clasped hands.

"Can I tell you a little secret about myself?" he asked, his voice strangely quiet. Intrigued, Lovino looked at him and grunted in affirmation. Feliciano blushed. "The truth is that I've always felt a little jealous of you."

Lovino could only stare at him for a moment. Of all things he might have expected to hear from any person in the world, let alone Feliciano, this had never been one of them. It just didn't make any sense.

"You? _You _are jealous of _me_?" Lovino almost laughed at the absurdity of it. "You've got to be kidding me! What the fuck is there to be jealous about?"

"More than you think," said Feliciano enigmatically, with a shrug. "But mostly, I was jealous that you got to live surrounded by those nice nuns and all those children while I had to stay with Grandpa. Don't get me wrong; I loved Grandpa from the bottom of my heart. But he was my only companion. I couldn't play with any other children. I had to stay with him all the time in case he needed my help, and because he wanted to teach me new painting techniques and stuff. It was really lonely. And then, I was also the one who had to watch as he withered and died right before my eyes. You're so lucky you were spared that."

He... had never thought of it that way. Lovino had never really stopped to think about what Feliciano's life with Grandpa on his last days must have been like. He had only cared about the fact that his brother had been with Grandpa, his family, his father figure, while Lovino had been dumped in an orphanage.

However, this revelation didn't make him feel any better. If anything, it only fed his resentment over his grandfather's decision to abandon him. He didn't care that Grandpa might have had the best of intentions, or that watching him die slowly and painfully would have been unbearable. If he had kept Lovino with him, Lovino would have at least _tried _to help. He would have kept Feliciano company, even if it were in his own ungracious, ill-humoured way. Who knew, the two brothers might have even bonded over it.

But no, Grandpa had preferred to leave him rather than give him a chance. He had thought of it as doing Lovino a favour. What a big favour, indeed, to make him feel abandoned and worthless. And now Feliciano was telling him he was supposed to be _thankful _for that?

He was considering punching his brother for the suggestion, but Feliciano suddenly cheered up and said, "That reminds me, I have something for you!" He got up and ran around the bed to pick up something he had left leaning against it on the other side, then hurried back to stand before Lovino once more and hand him a portrait. "This is one of my presents for you. Well, actually, it's Grandpa's present. Happy birthday!"

It was a rather large portrait of their family. Their whole family, because, in addition to Grandpa and the twins, there was a couple that Lovino recognised only from other portraits that had been all around his old home. His parents. They were angelic figures on the background, looking almost inconspicuous if not for their bright white clothes and the slightly luminous auras surrounding their bodies. Grandpa, the central character, was drawn in the same style, and his features looked at least twenty years younger than Lovino remembered. At each side of him were the twins, Feliciano with a heavenly, serene smile that mirrored his grandfather's and Lovino with an unsmiling, yet relaxed expression. They were wearing dark, very elegant clothes, typical of nobility.

"That was Grandpa's last portrait of our family. Though, it was really a collaboration between us, because I did most of the work," Feliciano explained. "Basically, he sketched it and I did the rest. His hands weren't steady enough for him to paint very well, so he asked me to finish it for him."

That was abysmally obvious to anyone who was familiar with Grandpa and Feliciano's style. This wasn't anything like an ordinary family portrait, in which the members of the family just sat down or stood around a sitting member, all wearing sober clothes and expressions, and stared at the painter, who drew exactly what he saw before him. Grandpa and Feliciano had never liked mundane paintings like that. Their paintings, even their portraits, had to be full of flare, colours, and over-dramatic poses, maybe with a few cherubs here and there.

This portrait was no exception. Not that it wasn't beautiful. It was actually so magnificent that anyone else might have doubted it had been painted by an idiot such as Feliciano. Lovino might not have been good at painting, but he had a good eye for mistakes, and yet he found none in this. Every single detail of this portrait was flawless.

No, it was better than just flawless. It was perfect.

"That's our parents watching over us from Heaven," Feliciano went on. "Grandpa was drawn the same way because he's also in Heaven. He's next to us because he's visiting; he promised me he would come to visit us if he could, you see. That's also why he looks younger. Grandpa said I had to make him look younger, because everyone looks young in Heaven." He giggled. "I think he was just self-conscious about his old age, though!"

Lovino said nothing, just continued to stare at the painting. He supposed he should have been enchanted by the sheer beauty of it, no matter how unconventional a portrait it was. It was technically perfect, but it failed to touch him. He had never known his parents; they were like strangers to him. The painting had been done by Grandpa and Feliciano, without any participation from Lovino whatsoever. As it had always been. And gazing at the end product of Feliciano's talent, it only made him feel inadequate yet again. All in all, rather than provoke admiration, all this portrait did was leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

"By the way," said Feliciano as Lovino carefully put the painting away in grim silence, "can you do me a little favour?"

"Favour? What kind of favour?" Lovino asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"Can you sing at our party, for the ball? Just a little?"

"What the fuck? Why couldn't you just hire a singer, dammit?"

"Aw, but you're a phenomenal singer! Please, you must sing at the party tonight! Just one song! It—it's part of my present for you, see?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's a surprise!" Feliciano's grin was back on full force, shining with the brightness of a thousand suns and attaining the same blinding effect on Lovino's eyes. "It's a surprise I prepared for you, as your birthday present. So, please, don't ask any questions and sing at least one song at the ball, okay?"

Lovino wasn't entirely sure he liked the idea of more surprises, especially coming from his brother, yet he couldn't help feeling curious. He just couldn't even begin to imagine what it might be that Feliciano had in store for him.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll sing at your damn party if it's that important to you," he huffed and tried to ignore it when Feliciano cried out in joy and attempted to squeeze the life out of him yet again.

"Thanks! You won't regret it, I promise!" Feliciano said and pulled away, though his hands remained on Lovino's shoulders. "By the way, since this is going to be _our _party, wouldn't you like to help us with the preparations?"

"Why should I? That's what servants are for, stupid."

"But it's fun! Besides, if you stay here in your room all day, you'll die from boredom and everyone is going to forget about you! You don't want that to happen, do you? Come on, I need someone with good taste to help me pick the right colours and make sure the food is good! Oh, and I made most of the food myself."

"Well, damn, if you insist," said Lovino ungraciously, although deep down he felt a little flattered. He also perked up at the prospect of tasting good food, especially if it had been made by Feliciano. After all, his brother wasn't only a talented artist, but also an excellent cook, and Lovino loved food too much to even let his jealousy get in the way and prevent him from fully enjoying his brother's recipes.

oOo

He did his best to help out with the preparations. He almost gave up a few times when his clumsiness for manual work resurfaced and he ruined some of the decoration, earning a few inconspicuous, dirty glares from the servants. However, his brother laughed off these little accidents and insisted that it was no problem, that there were still many other things he could help with, or that he had never liked those fancy vases anyway.

His favourite part was tasting Feliciano's recipes, which were delicious beyond his expectations, if that was even possible. He stuffed himself with them so much that Feliciano actually had to snatch the remaining food away and send it off lest nothing more was left for the guests. Lovino also tried his hand at a few recipes of his own, which in his opinion weren't as good as Feliciano's, but his brother still seemed to love them.

It was actually... rather fun. For once, Lovino was in a pretty good mood, especially considering it was his birthday.

Of course, his good moods never lasted long. Soon it was time for the party and the guests began to arrive. There were so many of them, as if the whole city had come to the party. That was when his mood began to sour again. Lovino hated crowds. So many unfamiliar faces, most of them nobles, congratulating and doting on Feliciano and then turning judgemental looks onto everybody else, including Lovino. People kept approaching him under the impression he was Feliciano and he had to explain time and time again, "I'm not Feliciano, I'm his brother, are you fucking blind?" and he knew he wasn't making any friends with this attitude, but it was really too much for him to handle.

At least there were a few familiar faces around. Antonio was here, looking as happy as if it were his own birthday and mingling easily with all these strangers. Bella, as well, had come all the way from Monterosso to attend the party. Although Feliciano had given her a very nice dress, appropriate for the occasion, she obviously felt very out of place among all these upper-class people. Ludwig was present, too, of course, and he looked about as uncomfortable as Lovino. It lifted his mood just a little bit to see him look so miserable.

For a while, the four of them huddled together, hoping to find solace and safety in each other's uneasiness or – in Antonio's case – trying to liven the others up. It didn't work very well. Lovino and Ludwig were avoiding each other's gazes and were both too taciturn to say anything, leaving only Bella to respond to Antonio's babbling about what a great party this was. Eventually, even that sorry excuse for a conversation died down and Antonio looked like he wanted to say something to Bella in particular, but didn't have the courage to do it, and Lovino didn't feel ready to leave them alone quite yet. Meanwhile, Bella also looked like she wanted to drag Lovino away to a quieter place.

Suddenly, Ludwig excused himself and hurried away from the group. Lovino hadn't thought the silence that followed his departure could have got any more awkward, but he was proved wrong once again. Antonio continued to watch Bella. Bella continued to watch Lovino. Lovino looked wistfully at the wine on the table several feet away. It was too early to get wasted, but if it made this party any more bearable...

"Hey, hey, guys! I want to introduce a friend of mine to you!" Feliciano's voice cut through the small bubble of silence that surrounded the trio.

Lovino turned to look at him, feeling almost grateful for his arrival. He was a bit put off, though, when he saw that Feliciano was accompanied by Ludwig and one of the most bizarre-looking people he had ever seen. It was a man who looked a bit like Ludwig, only paler, _much_ paler, his hair of such a fair shade that he might have been mistaken for an old man if not for his youthful features. When he was close enough, Lovino took one look at his eyes and crossed himself with a shudder. Dear God, his eyes were _red_. That just wasn't natural! He couldn't be human!

Yet, Feliciano just stood next to him as if it were the most normal thing in the world, grinning happily at his friends. "This is Gilbert. Gilbert Bel—um... Bail-Bailistim—no, wait—er..."

"Beilschmidt," said Gilbert, with an amused smirk, his voice raspy and as creepy as his face.

"Right!" said Feliciano, nodding. "He's Ludwig's older brother!"

"Adopted brother," Ludwig emended in clipped tones. He didn't seem terribly proud of being related to this Gilbert character. Lovino couldn't really blame him.

"Shit, that's all I need. Another foreign bastard from the north," he grumbled. "And he looks like a freak, at that."

"Now, now, that's not very nice, Lovino!" Feliciano chided him, even though Gilbert himself didn't look offended at all. In fact, as he stared back at Lovino, his smirk grew even more amused.

"Holy shit, you look just like Feliciano!" he burst out, uttering those words that Lovino had grown to hate so much. To add insult to injury, Gilbert patted him on the head as if he were a dog and gave a weird laugh. "You look like a grumpy version of him! That's so cute!" he cackled again, loud and mocking.

"Fuck you! Go back to the circus you came from and die, you asshole!" Lovino turned his glare on Antonio. "What are _you_ laughing at, jerkass?"

Antonio tried to muffle his laughter behind his hand, but it didn't make much difference at all. His shoulders were shaking with mirth and his face was bright red.

"N-nothing!" he choked out, wiping his eyes and he pulled himself together, even though his face was still split into a wide grin. Next to him, Bella was making some funny faces in an effort to hold back her own laughter. Lovino glared at them both, feeling his own face burning up with embarrassment and indignation, and began to leave, only to be stopped by Feliciano.

"Wait, Lovino, it's time for you to sing!" he said urgently. "Remember your promise!"

"I don't remember _promising _anything to you!"

"Lovinooooo!" Feliciano whined, and the sound grated so much on his nerves that he instinctively found himself complying just to spare himself from that horrible sound.

"All right, fine, I'll sing! Just leave me the hell alone, goddammit."

Still seething a little, Lovino was actually glad for this excuse to leave the company of those foreign bastards and his amused friends. On the other hand, he had to wonder what Feliciano was up to. Coming from him, it couldn't be anything good. Lovino hadn't even had time to rehearse – in fact, he had no idea what he was supposed to sing in the first place – so it would be his brother's fault if this turned into a disaster and ruined the party. Actually, that would serve him right.

After a brief talk with the musicians, Lovino took his place before the crowd as the first instrumental notes were played and the people paired up and positioned themselves to start dancing. Lovino fidgeted a little nervously as the former irritation gave way to shyness. He knew now what he was supposed to sing, but the thought of singing before all these people made him nervous. He had had no trouble singing in the choir, but that was different. This audience was larger, a lot colder, and more judgemental, and he wasn't familiar with them at all.

He took a deep, calming breath. No, he couldn't let himself get nervous. If he got nervous, he would definitely mess up this performance and be ridiculed by everyone. He needed to calm down and concentrate. He closed his eyes. That way, he wouldn't have to see them – he could even try to pretend he was all alone – and it also made it easier to focus on the music and wait for his cue. Gradually, the murmurs of the crowd faded into the background and Lovino sang without restraint or self-consciousness.

When the song was over and he opened his eyes again, he felt as though he had just woken up from a wonderful dream, and reality crashed down on him when he saw there were quite a few faces turned his way, staring at him. He felt as though his entire head were on fire and suddenly wished he could crawl into a hole and stay there for the remainder of the night. He spied a waiter serving drinks around and made a beeline for him, quickly retreating from the spotlight. Maybe, if he were lucky and got drunk enough, he would lose all memories from this stupid party by tomorrow morning.

He was in the process of knocking back a glass of champagne when someone slapped him on the back and almost caused him to spit the drink out in a most undignified way.

"Lovino, that was amazing! You're a really great singer!" said Antonio, apparently oblivious to the fact that the person he was praising was currently too busy having a coughing fit. Lovino tried to curse at him, but all his burning throat allowed out was a soft wheeze, and even his glare failed him because his eyes had watered up.

"He's right! You have such a beautiful voice," said Bella, who, being a lot more sensible and tactful than Antonio, did him the courtesy of approaching from the side rather than from behind.

With a last cough, Lovino wiped his streaming eyes to give Antonio a proper glare, though it had softened a little at Bella's words. His face was still burning up, too. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he muttered, averting his gaze. After all, they were his friends and were both too soft; their opinion on him was bound to be biased.

Just as they were assuring him of their sincerity, Feliciano joined the group, once again accompanied by a stranger. This one wasn't as outlandish in physical appearance, but in the way he dressed and carried himself. His clothes were without a doubt the fanciest and flashiest in this entire party, and that was saying something. He didn't look as uptight as the other nobles, although his nose was stuck snobbishly in the air. The oddest thing about the man, however, was the way he kept leering at everyone around him, but especially at Lovino. It was the kind of sinful, malicious leer that the Serpent must have been wearing when it offered Eve the apple. All in all, this man looked extremely unpleasant and suspicious, even more so than Ludwig or Gilbert, and Lovino couldn't for the life of him understand how Feliciano could even bring himself to stand that close to him.

In a way, it was amazing; Lovino had just looked at the man, and he already hated him.

"Lovino, this is Francis Bonnefoy, another friend of mine," said Feliciano, oblivious to the disapproving glare that his brother was sending his way. Honestly, Feliciano had the worst taste in friends. "He runs the opera house in Terraverde, and he's also an art merchant; he's bought several of my paintings."

"Good for you," grunted Lovino, trying to look as uninterested and unfriendly as possible. Neither man seemed affected by it, though. Bonnefoy continued to leer at him, and Feliciano continued to grin like the idiot he was.

"Ah, Mr. Vargas," said Bonnefoy in such an airy tone that Lovino could only assume he had to be at least a little tipsy. "That was absolutely fantastic! _Magnifique_, as we say back home! I can see that talent runs in the family. I should never have doubted that any descendant of Lord Romeo Vargas was destined to be grand."

"Y-you knew my grandfather?" Lovino asked, not sure how to feel about the flattery. He wasn't used to being praised in such a way; usually, in the rare occasions when someone did praise him, it was either to make him feel better, or because they wanted him to do them a favour or some sort of unpleasant task.

"Certainly! I was still a young boy when I met him, though, and we didn't see each other very often," replied Bonnefoy. "My father would often buy his artworks whenever Lord Vargas visited Terraverde. So, in reality, I am more familiar with his art than with the artist himself. Still, I am so very glad to see that he passed his talent on to his grandsons!"

"You mean _grandson_," said Lovino, half-peeved and half-confused. "I don't paint."

"Well, that is a shame," said Bonnefoy, without missing a beat. "But I suppose some variety is also nice. You may not be a painter like your brother, but you more than make up for it by being a fantastic singer!"

"Oh..." Lovino knew his face must have reddened quite a bit just now. He was so unused to being praised that he didn't even know how to respond to it. What was he supposed to say? _Thank you_? Or, _oh, that was nothing_? _What the hell do you want from me_?

Fortunately, Bonnefoy didn't seem to be expecting a response at all.

"I'll go straight to the point, Mr. Vargas," he said, and it was a little odd how Feliciano's grin was suddenly wider and he started to bounce a little. Either ignorant or oblivious to it, Bonnefoy went on, "As you know, I run the opera house in this town. I was wondering if you would be interested in working for me? With that voice, you would be perfect for the leading male role."

"Yes!" Feliciano burst out in joy and threw his arms around Lovino. Bella, standing a few feet behind him also gasped and squealed in delight.

"Wait, wait, what?" Lovino, himself, had no idea what was going on. Bonnefoy had lost him at "working" and the rest had yet to register. All he knew now was that his brother was happily smothering him and Bella and Antonio were shouting congratulations and saying how amazing that was. Now more annoyed than confused, he grabbed his brother by the arms and shoved him off. "What the hell are you all talking about?"

"Francis wants you to have the leading role in his opera!" said Feliciano. "Isn't that wonderful?"

Lovino just started at him, then at Bonnefoy's disgustingly smug face.

"That has to be a joke. Right?"

"What makes you think so, Mr. Vargas?"

_Everything_, Lovino wanted to say. The whole idea was just ridiculous and impossible. But he just couldn't put into words all the things that were wrong with it. "Well, for one thing, aren't the leading male roles usually given to castrati?" At least that was how it was, as far as he knew, and it only made him convinced that he was being mocked.

However, Bonnefoy wrinkled his nose snobbishly and made a noise of disgust.

"Castrati... I don't care much for them. See, this is the problem with this land. You people desperately need something innovative, something bold! You need to have your eyes opened to the wonders of tenors in leading roles!" the volume of his voice had risen with every word until he was so loud and passionate that quite a few eyes had turned to look his way oddly. "Just think about it! Love is a form of art, just as art is a form of love! You can't have an opera, a form of art, a form of love, with a castrato in the leading role! It just doesn't work! We need the powerful yet graceful, manly yet gentle voice of a tenor! We need _your_ voice, Mr. Vargas!"

Dumbfounded silence followed for a few seconds after the end of Bonnefoy's bizarre, overenthusiastic speech, broken only by his heavy pants. A few guests who had been staring discreetly moved away. Somewhere behind him, Lovino heard a single pair of hands applauding softly, which only added to the awkwardness of the moment, and Lovino hoped to dear God that it wasn't Bella.

"Are you fucking insane?" he burst out at length. "I—that's just—I can't—That has to be one of the stupidest things I have ever heard in my life! And having lived with Antonio for most of my life, you can bet I've heard a lot of very stupid things!"

"Why are you saying that, Lovino?" asked Feliciano gently. His smile was still in place, but he sounded quite puzzled. "I think it's a great idea! That's why I arranged for you to sing at the party; so that Francis would see how talented you are and ask you to work with him. It's a great honour, Lovino! I thought it'd be the perfect birthday present for you!"

"You!" Lovino turned his full death glare onto his brother, who yelped and drew back, shaking a little. "So this is your fault! You arranged this! This—this is the surprise you were talking about, isn't it?"

Despite his fear, Feliciano still smiled and nodded. "Yes, yes, it's my surprise birthday present for you!"

"God damn you and your fucking surprises, Feliciano!"

"What's wrong, Lovino? I thought you liked singing..."

"Feliciano, I can't sing opera!"

"But you just sang—"

"That's completely different!" Lovino was gesticulating wildly now. "Opera is completely different from that! It's harder, it needs acting, there'd be a lot more people watching, and—"

"Ah, Mr. Vargas, do you have stage fright?" Bonnefoy interrupted him with a gentle chuckle. "Don't worry about it. You'll get used to it after the first couple of times. And we would, of course, help you practise. In any case, you don't really need to be a formidable actor in opera; you just need to be a formidable singer. You have the raw talent, so all we need to do is polish you up and _voilà_."

Under other circumstances, Lovino might have been flattered. It wasn't every day he got praised like that. However, it had come too suddenly – Lovino had recently realised that he _hated_ surprises – and the man who was praising him was extremely suspicious and creepy, with all his leering and smirking and strange accent. Lovino didn't trust him one bit. Just looking at his face made him inwardly shudder and want to run in the opposite direction. He also tried to picture himself singing at the opera, under those hundreds of snobbish, judging gazes deciding that this Bonnefoy person was insane to hire him and that it should have been Feliciano instead. Every day would be just like this party. Every single day of his life.

"Forget it! I won't do it!" he snapped and tried to back away, but Feliciano grabbed his arm to protest.

"But—"

"No! Don't even try to make me change my mind!" Lovino said as he shook his brother off. He then caught the look on Bonnefoy's face and actually shuddered; the leer had intensified a hundred times.

"Playing hard to get, are you, Mr. Vargas? That is quite all right. I'll have you yet. Just wait and see."

"G-get the fuck away from me, you creep!" Lovino half-yelled and half-squeaked and quickly put as much distance between them as was dignified in a noble party.

"Don't worry. He'll come around, eventually," he vaguely heard Feliciano happily reassure Bonnefoy.

Curse Feliciano and his horrible taste in friends.

oOo

Shortly after Lovino found a spot as far away from Bonnefoy as possible, Antonio and Bella joined him again. They looked perplexed and like they were about to say something, most likely to ask him why he had refused Bonnefoy's offer and tell him that he still had time to go back and accept it. However, one pointed, warning glare from the still fuming Lovino was enough to make them think again and shut their mouths. After a long moment of awkward silence, his two friends started to talk about the weather of all things. It was a pathetic excuse for a conversation, but it was good enough to get Lovino's mind out of his unpleasant exchange with Bonnefoy.

Now the next music was about to begin and Antonio was once again giving Bella looks. This time, he actually managed to get over his anxiety or whatever it was that had been stopping him before and asked her to dance with him. Bella blushed and accepted, though not without a longing glance at Lovino first.

Lovino watched in mild amusement as the both of them wobbled and stepped on each other's feet, standing out like sore thumbs among the graceful couples of nobles around them. They were both great dancers in general, but they had probably never got the chance to practise this particular type of dance. Still, in their own clumsy way, they looked rather nice together, and they were obviously having fun. That was what mattered, he supposed.

Lovino looked away from the pair and idly watched his surroundings, until his gaze fell on a lone lady nursing a glass of wine. She was very, very pretty, with long, light brown hair that was slightly wavy near the end. Her skin was fair, but she wasn't sickly pale like so many noble ladies he had seen at this party. Her delicate features were only marred by the slight frown; she looked a little upset for some reason. Watching more closely, Lovino could see that there was a considerable gap between her and everyone around her, as if they were all deliberately shunning her.

He nudged Feliciano, who had already got away from Bonnefoy and was now talking to a reticent Ludwig, and asked him who that lady was.

"Oh, that's Elisabetta Magherini," he said, with a smile. "She's an old friend of mine. She's like a big sister to me."

"Why is she all alone? Look, it's like everyone is avoiding her."

"Oh, yeah..." Feliciano gave her a sad look. "She's not very popular. And she's probably in a bad mood. I saw her talking to Gilbert just now, and that always leaves her in a bad mood."

Lovino nodded, mirroring his brother's expression as his heart swelled with sympathy for the girl. He could see how talking to that freak would upset anyone. He also understood all too well what it felt like to be unpopular and shunned by everyone, and that such a thing had to happen to such a pretty lady was just unfathomable.

While Feliciano went back to his one-sided conversation with Ludwig, Lovino approached Elisabetta, determined to cheer her up. A lovely girl like her did not deserve to stand and drink all by herself while the other ladies got to dance.

"Good evening, my lady," he greeted her, with a gentle smile. She looked surprised to be addressed, but her face lit up as soon as she met his gaze, her face flushed. For a moment, Lovino was flattered that the mere sight of him had apparently been enough to cheer her up that much already. However, his elation only lasted as long as it took for her to open her mouth.

"Oh, Feliciano! Hello," she said.

Lovino's smile twitched, but remained plastered on his face, and he even succeeded in keeping his tone warmly polite.

"Sorry, but I'm not Feliciano. I'm his brother. Lovino Vargas."

"Oh..."

Lovino felt a little disheartened when her face fell with disappointment. She took another sip of wine and mumbled something about Feliciano having a brother, or something along those lines. Lovino cleared his throat.

"My lady, would you give me the honour of this dance?"

"No. Go away," she muttered, her expression sour once again.

Lovino was taken aback by the blunt refusal – no girl had ever, ever refused to dance with him – but then he took notice of the way she seemed to be slightly off balance and how her face was still flushed. Was she embarrassed? Intoxicated? Or maybe feverish?

He put a solicitous hand on her shoulder and began to ask if she was all right, but was cut off mid-sentence when the wine that had been in her glass suddenly met his face.

"Hands off, you pig! I said no!" she growled. When Lovino managed to open his eyes, he found her angry face only a few inches from his. "Fuck off," she hissed slowly before pulling away with a huff and walked away, almost tripping over the shards of Lovino's dignity.

He stood still for a moment, shaking just slightly as he was struck by a very unpleasant sense of déjà vu. _Intoxicated it is, then_, he thought, fishing for his handkerchief to both wipe the dripping wine off his face and to hide it a little from view, lest he died of embarrassment. That would teach him to approach angry females in the future, he supposed. Or maybe he was losing his touch. First Natalia, now this...

"Lovino, Lovino, are you okay?" he heard his twin's whiny voice ask, then felt his warm hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I should have warned you against getting close to Elisabetta when she's in a bad mood. But please, don't hold it against her! She's a really nice girl, really! I mean, usually..."

Lovino just sighed, not even bothering to tell his brother to shut up. Summoning the energy for that was just too much trouble. All he could do was wonder if this day could get any worse.

"Stay here. I'm going to clean myself up and change clothes," he told Feliciano. _Or hopefully drown in the basin_, he mentally added as he left the party and his fretting brother behind.

In a way, he was almost glad for the incident, because now he had a good excuse to get away from that godforsaken party, all that noise and crowd, and have a moment of peace to himself.

Or so he thought, until he rounded the corner and felt one hand press against his mouth while an arm crept around his midsection and dragged him away before he could even understand what was going on. Without being able to catch a glimpse of his assailant, he struggled blindly against their hold, his screams muffled by the hand on his mouth.

Eventually, he managed to bite the hand and elbow the guy in the stomach, causing the man to release him with a pained grunt. Lovino frantically took in his surroundings. He had been brought to one of the dining rooms in the manor. It was dark, save for the moonlight that came from the large window and allowed him to see that he was surrounded by several dark, intimidating men. The one that attracted his attention, however, was the one seated at the other end of the dining table, his back to the window so that his face was cast in shadows. Smoke curled up in the air above him.

"Mr. Gianturco..." Lovino choked out. Then, despite his fear of the man, he snapped, "What the fuck? You can't just break into my house and kidnap me like that!"

Il Sadico clucked his tongue. "Such inelegant words you use, Mr. Vargas! First of all, we did not 'break in'; we were formally invited by your brother. And we most certainly did not kidnap you. You are still in your home, after all. I merely wanted to have a word with you in private."

The way Il Sadico said those words, coupled with the overpowering smell of wine, made Lovino feel sick to his stomach, although he did his best to hide it. He crossed his arms and forced himself to meet Il Sadico's shadowed eyes.

"Well, what do you want, then?" he asked, and mentally cursed when his voice came out thick with tense fear.

Fear that increased tenfold when a slow, crooked smile splayed on the other man's dark face.

"You know, Mr. Vargas, I could almost admire the way you have been avoiding us since the last time we met. You are good, I'll give you that. Very, very good," as he said that, his gaze looked almost greedy, as if Lovino were some kind of rare prize he coveted. However, when he paused in his speech for a second, his ugly smile suddenly fell and his eyes were icy and unforgiving. Lovino couldn't decide which look was more frightening. "But I grow weary of this game, Mr. Vargas, so I will go straight to the point. You owe us money."

The goon who had dragged him here cracked his knuckles and stood so close behind Lovino that he could _feel_ his intimidating presence. His throat tightened.

"O-okay, look, there's no need to resort to violence!" he said, his voice now shaking openly. "We can settle this like reasonable adults! I-I can pay you now! Right now, in fact! J-just—just let me go and get the money..." his voice trailed off weakly when Il Sadico's frown only became deeper.

"I'm afraid that is quite impossible now, Mr. Vargas," the man murmured. "Your debt to us has increased dramatically."

"What the hell do you mean?" Lovino burst out, his voice a little higher than usual. "I only hired you to rescue my brother and Antonio and kill Natalia! Half the payment before the job was done and the other half later, that was our agreement! You can't just raise my debt because you feel like it!"

"As it so happens," said Il Sadico, almost bored, "Count Russo was not pleased with his youngest daughter's assassination. He found out who shot her and had him killed. But that wasn't enough for him; he came to destroy my entire family and everyone associated with us. The Russo family and the Gianturco family are at war now... and I hold _you _responsible, Mr. Vargas."

"What? You can't possibly—" Lovino was cut off when the goon behind him gripped his shoulder in warning.

"We have suffered many losses," continued Il Sadico as if there had never been an interruption. "I want compensations for all those men and all the money that I lost in this war, which only began because of you, Mr. Vargas. I am sure you understand."

Lovino didn't, but when the oaf next to him squeezed his shoulder a tad more tightly, and one of the men surrounding them deliberately reached inside his coat as if about to pull a gun, and Il Sadico gave him that dangerous, piercing glare, Lovino had no other option but to swallow his objections.

"H-how—How much do I owe you, then?" he asked, his voice almost inaudible even in the sepulchral silence that had fallen onto this room.

Il Sadico told him.

Lovino almost fainted. It was too much. He had never even heard such a great amount of money be uttered before in his life. Was it even possible for a man to be that rich? Not that it mattered much, because he knew _he_ didn't have that much money, and he probably would never have, even if he worked his entire life. And it just wasn't _fair_, because it wasn't his fault that Count Russo had started a war against the Gianturcos. He had never even imagined something like that would happen.

"I would also be very careful if I were you, Mr. Vargas," added Il Sadico. "I am not the only one Count Russo is after. He is fully aware of what you did to his daughter and he is advancing quickly."

Digesting such horrible news would have been hard enough, and this smell of wine just seemed to be getting stronger, so he could barely think straight. He felt dizzy and would probably have staggered a little if not for the hand on his shoulder that kept him steady – it was good for _something_, after all. He briefly considered sitting down, but his body was reluctant to move.

What was he going to do? He couldn't hire Il Sadico or anyone else to protect him, but he would die for sure if he were left on his own. Would he have to run away again? How far would he have to go to be safe?

"Fortunately, I have a proposition that should help both of us," said Il Sadico, that lazy smile spreading on his face once again. "Why don't you work for me, Mr. Vargas? That way, you would be able to pay your debt to me little by little. In exchange, I would offer you protection. And I assure you that I would do everything in my power to keep you safe." His tone was almost kind, almost paternal. The smirk that followed, however, effectively broke that illusion. "After all, you are no use to me dead."

Lovino ran his hand over his now sweaty forehead. He knew quite well what Il Sadico was proposing. It wasn't much different from slavery. Then again, what choice did he have? If he tried to run away, he would be hunted by _two_ families – one for revenge, the other for money. If he accepted to work for Il Sadico, at least he would be protected from the Russos.

Yet, why did it feel as though he were resigning to his death sentence?

"A-all right," he choked out, unable to raise his gaze from the floor. "I... I accept your proposal."

"I knew you were smarter than your brother, Mr. Vargas."

Lovino shuddered in revulsion. He, of course, agreed that he was smarter than his brother – who wasn't? – but he didn't like it when anyone but himself talked about Feliciano like that. However, he couldn't very well voice his opinion to such a dangerous man, especially when that man had just become his new boss.

He glared at Il Sadico, who had stood up and was walking in his direction, his eyes wide with a glint of greedy triumph. Indeed, Il Sadico had got exactly what he wanted, had he not? It suddenly dawned on Lovino why accepting his proposal had felt like a death sentence. It just might be worse than a death sentence; he had just sold his soul to the devil.

Il Sadico stood right before him, grinning like the cat that got the canary. "Welcome to the family, Mr. Vargas," he said, with a pat that was more like a slap on Lovino's face. Lovino said nothing and resisted the sudden urge to punch the smug man. He just wanted him to leave now. With a low snigger, Il Sadico turned to leave, pausing by the door and turning back to him to add, "Oh, and... happy birthday!"

Lovino had never thought he could hate his birthday even more, but once again he was proved wrong.

It was really a good thing that Il Sadico and all his men left just then, because the specks of light that had been swimming in his vision for a while now flashed much brighter and he finally collapsed.


	11. Caged

**A/N**: I would like to thank my reviewers **FluffyCakes**, **LeriaCossato**, **VampireNaomi**, **SoDesuKa**, **ElBetso**, and **anonymous** (your review is awesome! Sorry about the mood whiplashes, though), and also everyone who has faved this story! Your support means a lot to me!

And special thanks to **SoDesuKa**, who is a wonderful person on top of being a wonderful artist and kindly drew illustrations for this fic. Tack så mycket! You can see the illustrations in the links below (don't forget to remove the spaces):

sodesuka. deviantart. com / art / The-Awkward-Wedding-147033863

sodesuka. deviantart. com / art / Weel-of-Fortune-Revenge-153291119

* * *

– **CHAPTER 11 –**

_**Caged**_

When Lovino opened his eyes, he was a little confused at first. He wasn't sure where he was supposed to be, but he had the feeling it wasn't here, wherever "here" was. He also had the vague impression that something terrible had just happened. Memories from his and his brother's birthday party slowly came back, and he remembered having left it because some crazy bitch had thrown wine at him.

Come to think of it, the overwhelming smell of wine was mercifully gone. Lovino closed his eyes and just breathed for a few minutes, basking in the wonders of wine-free air. Then, even though he felt a little sore, he sat up, squinting in the dark to look down at his clothes. They were clean... and they were his sleeping clothes, which he was sure he had not worn for the party.

He looked to his left and was startled when he saw he wasn't alone in the room – which, he then realised, was his own bedroom. He was only marginally relieved to see it was Bella, sitting by his bed and apparently fast asleep, with her face buried in her arms on the bed. Questions ran through his head. What the hell was she doing in his room? How long had she been there, watching him sleep? Was she the one who changed his clothes?

Mortified by the idea, Lovino quickly grabbed his blanket and brought them up to his chin, as if that would help him preserve his dignity at all, and rolled on his side so that his back was to Bella. Then he got off the bed, careful not to wake up Bella, and tiptoed to Feliciano's room, next door. He couldn't get dressed in the dark, especially not with a woman in the room, so he would have to borrow his brother's clothes for now. Thankfully, Feliciano's room was empty, so Lovino took his time to find some nice clothes and put them on. As he did so, he kept wondering what had happened the previous night. He knew it wasn't anything good, so he was almost afraid of remembering. Maybe that was why he couldn't remember.

Still a little disoriented and anxious, Lovino left his brother's room and wandered around the house, feeling lost and wondering what time it was. Feliciano hadn't been in his room, so it should certainly be past ten in the morning. Maybe he was in his "study", which was actually a room that Feliciano used for his artistic endeavours.

As soon as he stepped into said study, Lovino's eyes were graced with the sight of Francis Bonnefoy, naked except for a few roses just barely covering his privates.

Lovino's scream could be heard throughout the house.

If this were a nightmare, he would have surely woken up at this point. However, he did not wake up; the sinful sight was still there, before his burning eyes. He turned his back on it and clawed at his eyes, but the image was now imprinted on his mind.

"Lovino! You're up!" he heard his brother's voice. So many people had always said that it was like an angel's voice, but to Lovino, especially after seeing what he had just seen, the annoying voice grated on his nerves, taunting him. Lovino turned in the direction the voice came from and glared at Feliciano, careful not to let Bonnefoy get into his field of vision.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded.

"Ah, I can see you're feeling better," said Feliciano in his usual, light-hearted away. "Francis wanted me to paint him. He often buys paintings of himself from me."

"In the nude?"

"Why not?" came Bonnefoy's smooth, laid-back voice. Lovino bristled, but pointedly did not look his way. "The human body is a work of art in and of itself, as _any_ artist should know, right, Mr. Vargas?"

"Fuck you, you narcissistic bastard!" Lovino snapped at what he perceived to be a jab at his lack of artistic skills. His eyes were still staring determinedly at Feliciano, who went on as if he hadn't been interrupted:

"And then Francis suggested that Gilbert join him, and Antonio didn't want to be left out, so he joined them, too."

"Antonio?" That startled him enough that he ended up looking back at Bonnefoy. He had been so shocked by the sight of that creep that he hadn't even noticed both Antonio and Gilbert on each side of Bonnefoy, completely naked and a little too close to each other – in fact, Bonnefoy had one arm draped around Antonio's shoulder.

Lovino almost screamed again, but he was beyond that point now. He just stared in shell-shocked horror and began to twitch. Antonio grinned at him and waved, but went back to his original position when Feliciano scolded him and reminded him he was supposed to sit still. That got Lovino out of his hellish trance and he looked away again in disgust. He really had seen more of his best friend and those two freaks than he had _ever_ wanted to.

"You're sick bastards. All of you," he snarled.

At this point, he finally noticed that Ludwig was also in the room, standing in a corner and staring at the blank wall on the other side of the room as if his life depended on it, his jaw clenched tightly. It was obvious he was as displeased with this debauchery as Lovino; in all likelihood, he had been invited to join in.

What a disgustingly patient, lenient man. If any of them dared to invite Lovino to join in, he would have to kill someone. Probably all of them.

Feliciano finished a few strokes and then put his paintbrush down to give Lovino his full attention. He was still smiling, but he looked a little bit worried.

"You look upset, Lovino. Are you sure you're well? Maybe you shouldn't have got up just yet."

"I'd be feeling a lot better if I hadn't seen that—that outrage!" Lovino yelled, pointing in the general direction of the naked trio.

Feliciano's smile widened a little. "If you're sure... I'm glad you're feeling better. You gave me quite a scare last night. I found you passed out in the dining room, and I was so worried! I was really afraid you had hit your head or something."

Lovino's scowl softened into a look of confusion. He had passed out in the dining room? Why—

And then all the memories from the previous night flooded his mind, hitting Lovino like a bucket of cold water. He remembered being kidnapped right after leaving the party to clean himself up, and being dragged to the dining room, where Il Sadico and his thugs had been waiting for him, and being told of the debt, the Russos' vendetta, and accepting to work for the Gianturcos...

Lovino staggered from the impact of all those awful memories and felt his blood run cold. Next thing he knew, both Feliciano and Antonio were standing before him, wearing twin expressions of alarm and worry.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Feliciano asked again. "You're really pale and—and you're shaking!"

Lovino opened his mouth to say that no, he wasn't all right. He was physically fine, but he was in trouble and terrified. He wanted to tell his brother and his friend, at least, what was going on. Feliciano might lend him money or offer him comfort, and Antonio might protect him.

He said nothing and closed his mouth hesitantly. No, he had to be realistic. Telling them wouldn't do him any good. Feliciano would just worry and bawl his eyes out, and even Antonio couldn't protect him from those people. They were too many and they had guns; Antonio was no match for them. If anything, Lovino would only be endangering him. Besides, even if telling them would do any good, he couldn't say it in front of all these strangers.

Moreover, they would start asking questions. If they found out about his deal with Il Sadico, what would they think of him? They would be so disappointed, probably disgusted. They were such nice goody-two-shoes; they would surely disapprove of his decision to hire assassins to kill someone and then to get hired by those same assassins to pay his debt because he had unchained a war between two powerful families. Ludwig was already suspicious. He couldn't take any risks.

Even though he was surrounded by people, some of whom actually cared about him, Lovino suddenly felt very alone. He just didn't know how he could deal with all this on his own, but at the same time, he couldn't ask for help. He couldn't even let any of them know he had a problem to deal with in the first place.

Lovino felt his eyes sting. God, what could he do to make this right? Unless he wanted to spend the rest of his miserable life working for Il Sadico – and thus shortening his lifespan considerably – he needed to make money to pay his debt, to get it over with more quickly. Pickpocketing was a good start, but not nearly enough. Discreetly borrowing some of his brother's inherited fortune might help. But in order to have a substantial amount of money, he would have to work.

The mere thought made him shudder inwardly. He hated any kind of work, and he wasn't good for anything. He had no idea what kind of work he could do, let alone one that would pay him well enough.

Before Lovino could give his predicament any further thought, he found himself being violently shaken by his brother and having his name screamed in his ear.

"What? What the fuck do you want? Stop shaking me, damn you!" he yelled at Feliciano.

"I-I'm sorry, but you suddenly grew so quiet, and you had this far away look in your eyes, and you weren't responding," Feliciano whimpered.

"I was just thinking! Maybe you should try doing the same for once."

Lovino's gaze fell on the three men who had been posing for Feliciano's painting and was very relieved to see that they were all fully dressed again – although Antonio looked like he had got dressed in the dark. They had probably realised that Feliciano wasn't going to focus on his painting any time soon, and Antonio must have thrown so many worried looks at the twins that he had been unable to focus on getting dressed properly.

Lovino's attention wasn't really on Antonio, though. His eyes were locked on Bonnefoy, who was leering at Feliciano for some unfathomable reason. Yet again, memories from the previous night resurfaced. Bonnefoy had claimed to run the opera house in this city and had offered him the leading role. Come to think of it, Lovino had been praised for his singing several times. He had never considered his singing terrific, but he thought he was reasonably good at it and it was something that he actually enjoyed doing. And even if his singing was nothing special, the man who ran the opera house seemed to think he was good enough, and that was what mattered.

It was a possibility. Singing to make money and pay his debt more quickly. It would be difficult, he knew, but it should be worth it in the end. The hardest part would actually be to swallow his pride and accept Bonnefoy's proposal after his adamant refusal the previous night.

Shaking fists clenched at his sides, Lovino stiffly walked over to Bonnefoy, who took a few seconds to redirect his disgusting leering from one twin to the other. It took him a few frustrated attempts until he could form coherent words. He felt like he was choking. Pride was indeed very hard to swallow.

"Mr. Bonnefoy... Er, are you—I mean, is it—is your proposal—you know, from yesterday—the opera thing, er—is it—is it still up?" he mumbled, glaring at his shoes so that he wouldn't have to see that sly leer or that smug smirk any longer.

"I take it you have changed your mind, Mr. Vargas?"

Lovino had half-expected to be rejected or mocked, so Bonnefoy's reply was quite a surprise. However, his tone carried a hint of triumph that Lovino really despised – as if there had been some kind of game between them and Bonnefoy had come out victorious, with the defeated and humiliated Lovino as his prize.

He fought to keep his temperament in check, though. He needed that money, and if Bonnefoy wanted to make this a game, Lovino wasn't going to lose so easily. He drew up to his full height – unimpressive as it was – and stuck his nose in the air, hopefully succeeding in looking the very picture of noble pride.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he said. "I have merely decided to take pity on you, after you begged me so much to fulfil the leading role for your opera."

"I see," said Bonnefoy, with that lazy smile that Lovino had learnt to hate. Much to his disappointment, Bonnefoy wasn't flustered or annoyed at all; rather, his response dripped with condescension. "Thank you so much, Mr. Vargas. Believe me, you have just made me the happiest man on Earth."

Lovino drew back slightly, repulsed. Everything that came out of that man's mouth always sounded so wrong, somehow.

"So, when do I start?" he asked, reluctantly.

"Whenever you're ready, Mr. Vargas."

"As soon as possible, then."

"Eager, are we? I like that," Bonnefoy purred, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "Your brother told me you were a little unwell last night. You seem to be doing better now, thank God, but you should probably rest a little more. We can begin the preparations tomorrow, if you like; just come to the opera house, any time of the day – or night, really, I don't mind at all if you come in the middle of the—"

"I'll be there in the morning," Lovino interrupted him with clipped tones, mentally making a note never to get anywhere near the opera house after nightfall. God only knew what went on in that place when it was dark, considering Bonnefoy's shady personality. Lovino still had _some_ integrity and virtue left to maintain, thank you very much. And maybe if he showed up early in the morning, Bonnefoy would be too tired from his nightly activities to be this smooth and annoying – a hangover, if nothing else, would be a godsend.

"I'm really glad you changed your mind and decided to take up his offer," said Antonio, with a hearty pat on his back. "I'm sure this is going to be great for you!"

Lovino fought not to snap and contradict him. Antonio was just being his usual, optimistic self. As far as he knew, Lovino had actually decided that being an opera singer was a _fabulous_ idea. He had no idea how hard this was for Lovino. He didn't mean to be an obnoxious idiot.

"I'll go back to my room," Lovino lied. Bella was probably still there, and lying in bed all day wouldn't do him any good. Instead, he would look for his gun (stolen from Ludwig) and check how many bullets he had left.

Antonio looked a little worried again, but smiled and nodded. "Oh, okay, that's probably a good idea. Do you want me to walk you there or—"

"I'm not a fucking invalid!" Lovino snapped and took his leave, intending to head straight to the room where he kept the gun and the bullets he had stolen. As soon as he stepped out of Feliciano's study, he felt relieved to be away from all those people.

His relief was short-lived, however. A minute later, he heard heavy, precise steps approaching him from behind and then a deep voice called out, "Mr. Vargas. May I have a word with you, please?" The words were polite, but the tone was very ominous. Lovino turned around to face Ludwig, annoyed that this detestable man had followed him and maybe also a little intimidated. Ludwig was looking scarier than usual, and that never boded well.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I thought you said you were going to your room?" said Ludwig coldly. "Yet you are heading in the opposite direction."

"Where I decide to go is none of your fucking business," said Lovino, but when it earned him a very suspicious stare, he decided maybe he shouldn't sound so evasive and defensive. "I-I took the wrong turn, okay?" he said, feeling his face redden. "This house is too big; I still get a little lost sometimes. There, happy now?"

"Really?" If anything, Ludwig looked even more suspicious. "Well, be it as it may, that is not what I wanted to talk about. I would just like to ask you a simple question. What were you doing in the dining room last night?"

The blood that had been heating up his face suddenly drained from it, but he fought to keep up his annoyed attitude.

"Wh-what is it to you?" he asked, hoping he sounded peeved enough.

"It is a simple question, Mr. Vargas. Surely you have nothing to hide?"

Lovino was at a loss of words. If he tried to evade the question again, it would only arouse even more suspicion, and he was feeling trapped under Ludwig's cold scrutiny.

"Ludwig, what are you doing?" came Feliciano's whiny voice, and possibly for the first time ever, Lovino was glad to hear it. "Why are you bothering my brother? He needs his rest!"

"I was just asking him a simple, harmless question, my lord," said Ludwig, his eyes never leaving Lovino's. "I was wondering what he was doing in the dining room last night."

"Are you still going on about that?" Feliciano sighed. "Why is it bothering you so much? What's the problem?"

"I just think it is very... odd," said Ludwig, narrowing his eyes. "Your brother left the party to clean himself up and get a change of clothes after Lady Magherini threw wine at him. So, why was he in the dining room, in the dark? There was no reason for him to be there. It isn't even close to his bedroom. Even if this is a big house and he is not yet completely familiar with it, surely he would realise how very far from his room he was?"

Oblivious to Lovino's squirming, Feliciano just gave Ludwig a very confused look and laughed uncertainly. "I don't really get what you're getting at. I mean, you make it sound like Lovino was doing something really naughty!" He giggled to accentuate how silly he thought this idea was. Ludwig, on the other hand, didn't miss the way that Lovino's shifted uncomfortably at his brother's words.

"You haven't answered my question yet, Mr. Vargas. I didn't think an answer would be that difficult. Unless, of course, you really were doing something that you want to hide from us."

"Shut the fuck up!" Lovino finally burst out. "You have no right to demand any explanations from me! You're just a servant!"

"I am Feliciano Vargas' servant. He is the lord of this house," said Ludwig unperturbedly. "_You_ are nothing. You do not own this house and have no authority over me. I respect you as my master's brother and nothing else. You do not have the same status as him. You are not _Lord_ Vargas."

Lovino was shaking with anger and humiliation. He would have yelled and tried to strangle the life out of this bastard, but he still had enough sense to know that the odds were against him. Ludwig was strong, much stronger than him, and could easily break Lovino in a half before Feliciano even had time to order him to stop, and then he could justify himself by claiming he had done it in self-defence. And that, of course, only added to his humiliation. Not only had he been told off by his brother's servant, he was too cowardly and weak to do anything about it.

"That's enough, Ludwig!" said Feliciano, sounding unusually austere (for him, at least) as he brought his brother into a comforting embrace. "You're being silly, and cruel! You know my brother is sick! He must have got disoriented after the left the party last night; that's why he wound up in the dining room. And—and he's embarrassed about it; that's why he doesn't want to explain it! That's all there is to it! And if you keep upsetting him, he could get sick again, so please just stop it and leave him alone!"

Sometimes, Lovino really loved his brother. He resented being treated like a fragile doll and having his condition brought up, but in this case, it was worth it. Not only had Feliciano provided a perfectly plausible excuse for him, he had also told his precious friend off in favour of Lovino _for once_. And Ludwig's flustered, chastised expression was just priceless. Lovino would have loved to see it immortalized in a painting; it would never fail to cheer him up even in his gloomiest moments. He just couldn't help but smile in spiteful triumph.

In hindsight, that had probably been unwise. Ludwig had been in the middle of profuse apologies when he caught Lovino's smirk and that suspicious glare was back on his face, now ten times stronger and with a hint of something like hatred. He dared not say anything so soon after being scolded by his master, but he could definitely be a problem.

Feliciano was bad at picking his friends, but Lovino had to admit that he, himself, was bad at picking his enemies.

oOo

Even armed with a gun that he kept concealed beneath his coat on his back, with several bullets in his pocket, as well as a knife in his sleeve and another in his boot, Lovino still felt as vulnerable as a baby rabbit in an open field. And as he made his way to the opera house in the early morning, it was like the aforementioned baby rabbit was hopping right into the fox's den. He had to keep reassuring himself that he wasn't that helpless; he was armed, and if all else failed, he was still fast on his feet and could outrun anyone if he really put his mind into it.

However, as soon as he saw Antonio, loitering around the gate of the Vargas estate with a blissfully oblivious expression – in other words, the same as usual – he felt a little better. Antonio, his friend, his brother, his caretaker since childhood, the one who had always fought to protect him, who would always try to cheer him up and show him the bright side of things. As annoying and dense as he might be sometimes, Antonio made him feel safe. His familiar presence alone was quite comforting; it brought to Lovino a sense of normalcy, of stability, an unspoken promise that everything would be all right. Even after their fight in Pontebianco, this hadn't changed. The misunderstanding had been cleared up later on and they were again the best of friends, even if Lovino didn't show it in conventional ways.

If Antonio were with him, Lovino wouldn't feel so intimidated. Not many people realised this, or would even believe it if they were told, but Lovino had always been a little shy around strangers. It took him a very long time to get used to someone and open up in his own way. He disliked being left alone with people he didn't trust, so he felt more at ease when there was someone familiar with him whenever he had to confront strangers. Things tended to go badly when he was left alone with them; he would become prickly and even more likely to get into a fight – which he would lose.

"Antonio, you bastard," he called out as a way of greeting. Antonio blinked owlishly at him and then grinned.

"Oh, hi, Lovino! How are you today?"

"Can't complain. Are you ready to go? I want to get this over with."

"I'm ready, but... are you going somewhere?"

Lovino stared at him for a moment. "You can't even remember? We're going to the opera house, dumbass! I told that creepy son of a bitch I'd be there early this morning. You were there!"

"Oh... Oh!" Realisation dawned dramatically on Antonio's face. "Of course I remember!" He smiled and nodded, but showed no intention to move from where he stood.

"Well?" Lovino prompted a moment later, already tired of waiting for Antonio's brain to catch up. "What are you waiting for?"

Antonio looked lost. "I'm waiting for Bella. Why?"

"Bella? She didn't tell me she wanted to come along!"

"What are you talking about?"

Now Lovino was also getting confused, not to mention frustrated. Coherent conversations shouldn't be this hard to achieve.

"I had no idea she wanted to come with us to the opera house. She didn't tell me anything," he explained and was immensely proud of how calm and patient he managed to sound.

Antonio still frowned in incomprehension, but then seemed to finally understand.

"Oh, I get it now! You think I'm coming with you to the opera house!"

Lovino sucked in the air to reply, but it stuck in his throat when Antonio's words caught up to him.

"W-wait, you mean you're not coming with me to the opera house?" he asked, struck by how absurd that sounded. Surely he had misunderstood. However, Antonio did not deny it, but looked sheepish and apologetic.

"If you wanted me to come with you, you should have told me earlier," he said. "I'd love to come with you, but... well, you see, I've already promised Bella we'd go out together today. She wanted me to show her the city, since she didn't really get the chance to visit it the last time 'cause we were too busy looking for you."

Suddenly, Lovino felt very foolish, and he couldn't help but feel a sting of hurt as well. He had simply assumed that Antonio would come with him to the opera house, since he was always at Lovino's side, had been since they had met at the orphanage, and he had been so excited about the idea of Lovino singing opera. It was so natural that Antonio would tag along everywhere he went even when his presence was not desired that it hadn't occurred to Lovino to even mention it. Antonio should have known that Lovino wouldn't want to go on his own to meet a man he obviously despised.

Yet, Antonio hadn't even considered coming with him. He had completely forgotten about him to go out with Bella. And speaking of whom... Why would Bella ask Antonio to show her the city? Why hadn't she asked Lovino? He was the one she was interested in and wanted to spend time with, wasn't he? Why would she seek out _Antonio's _company, then?

"I-I'm sorry!" said Antonio, noticing how upset Lovino had got. "Look, i-if you want, we can both come with you to the opera house first. I'm sure Bella won't mind!"

"I-it's not like I want you to come with me!" Lovino snapped, without really thinking. "I just thought you'd want to come with me, since you were so excited about it! I'm not a little kid who needs you to hold my hand everywhere I go, dammit! Go, have fun with your date. I don't give a damn what you do."

Antonio tried to protest, but didn't even follow Lovino when he quickly took his leave, which only angered him even more. What kind of friend would just let someone go when they were obviously upset? Back in the day, Antonio would chase after Lovino insistently until he found out what was bothering his friend, all the while wearing that deeply worried expression. What had changed?

Lovino was so mad that he even forgot to be afraid on his way to the opera house. In fact, he almost wished he _had_ been attacked by someone – at least then he would have a convenient outlet for his anger.

"Gooood morning, my dear Mr. Vargas," came that purring, devilish voice as soon as he reached the opera house. To Lovino's deep disappointment, Bonnefoy didn't look hungover at all. The man was dressed impeccably as always and seemed to be in a better mood than should be possible this early in the morning. Lovino felt cheated, as if his plan had backfired on him somehow.

"What's so good about it?" he grumbled.

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine?" Bonnefoy smirked. "Looks like _someone _missed breakfast this morning. Well, in that case, I'll just give you a brief introduction for now. We can discuss the details when you're feeling a little perkier. Agreed?"

"Yeah, whatever."

To his credit, Bonnefoy was very well-behaved as he showed him the place. Although his voice still had that lascivious quality to it, his tone was strictly business-like, his explanations matter-of-fact and free of suggestive turns of phrases, and even his leering was kept to a minimum.

"We have rehearsals every day, although not always the same acts and rarely with many singers at the same time. Since you'll have the leading role, along with our soprano, you'll have to rehearse quite often, sometimes alone, sometimes with a couple of others, but don't worry about it now. Before you can start rehearsing the actual opera, we'll give you a few lessons. Singing opera is a little different from what you did at your party; there are certain techniques that you need to learn, practise, and master – though I don't doubt you will have no trouble at all with that."

"I hope you're right," Lovino commented, feeling a little sceptical himself; he had never been what one would call a fast learner.

Then, perhaps because of the strong smell of perfume that seemed to be impregnating the air of the opera house, his nose happened to tickle and he turned his head to the side to sneeze. When he faced Bonnefoy again, he was taken aback; judging by the man's expression, one might have thought that Lovino had just coughed up blood.

"What is that? What is wrong with you?" Bonnefoy asked, suddenly very agitated.

"What?" Lovino tensed, wondering what he had done now. He hadn't even been trying to be offensive for once.

"Just now, you sneezed!" said Bonnefoy, narrowing his eyes. "You're not getting sick, are you?"

"Er, no? I don't think so," said Lovino, still wondering what the big deal was.

"Mr. Vargas," Bonnefoy's voice and expression were grim, all traces of good humour and flippancy completely gone. "You need to be very careful with your voice from now on. Remember, your entire career depends on it. Even a slight cold could be _catastrophic_! Just try to imagine it; you're singing in front of hundreds of people who paid dearly for the spectacle, and then your voice cracks! It would be a disaster!"

Lovino suddenly got a sinking feeling. He wasn't worried about colds or anything of the sort, though. Sure, that would be bad, but a much worse scenario had just occurred to him. What if he had an attack of the falling sickness in the middle of the show? Now _that_ would be utterly and irreparably catastrophic. If he had a cold, he could just ask for the show to be postponed, or maybe find a substitute, and wait until he was better to sing in public again. No problem there, as far as he could see it. But the falling sickness was unpredictable and came on too fast. At most, he had a few hours of forewarning; usually, only a few minutes, or even seconds. If it happened in the middle of the show, there would be no escape, and if he thought having an attack in front of his closest friends was embarrassing enough, having one on stage, in front of hundreds of people, would be just—it was too horrible to even contemplate.

"I see you understand now the importance of taking care of your voice," said Bonnefoy, misunderstanding the meaning behind Lovino's worried expression. "No need to get into panic, of course. I mean, if you take care of yourself, you won't get sick, and everything will be all right. Right?"

Did Bonnefoy even know about his condition? He hadn't mentioned it at all, so probably not. Even the day after the party, Bonnefoy had said that, according to Feliciano, Lovino had been "a little unwell last night," suggesting that his brother had had the sense to be vague about it and made it seem as though Lovino had just had a bit too much to drink or something harmless like that. But maybe Bonnefoy _should _know about it beforehand, rather than get a nasty surprise at the worst possible moment?

No, forget about it. If Bonnefoy found out, he would give up on this whole idea and kick Lovino out for sure. Lovino needed that money, and this was the only way to get it. He would just have to keep his mouth shut and hope for the best.

"Right, right," Lovino replied at length. "Don't worry, my voice is just fine."

"Excellent, Mr. Vargas!" And like magic, that lazy smile was back on Bonnefoy's face. "I know I can count on you. Now, I'll show you to your private dressing room."

oOo

"Well, Mr. Vargas, how do you like it?"

Lovino surveyed the dressing room from the door, then stepped inside and continued to look around with an expression of indifference bordering on boredom. Inwardly, though, he was surprised by how fancy this room looked, although, considering it was part of a place run by Francis Bonnefoy, he should have expected it to be as flashy and ostentatious as the man himself. There was a very large table with an also large mirror and a cushioned chair, a couch and an footstool, a divan, and what was left of the walls was covered by wardrobes and clothes hangers. It made Lovino wonder if this was really his _private_ dressing room, because it certainly looked like it was made for the entire cast. Also, it reeked of perfume, just like the rest of the opera house. It was really beginning to give him a headache. Sadly, the dressing room had no windows.

Offering no answer to Bonnefoy's question, Lovino sauntered over to the chair and took a seat, heaving a heavy sigh. He couldn't even bring himself to form an opinion about his dressing room; his mind was rather concerned with more important matters. However, once again Bonnefoy misread his mood.

"Oh, that's right, you must be hungry. You really shouldn't skip breakfast, Mr. Vargas, no matter how eager to see me you may be."

Lovino sputtered. "I didn't—"

"I'll order you breakfast, so you just wait here. This room is yours now, so I want you to feel at home."

In reality, Lovino _hadn't_ skipped breakfast, and in any case, he felt so nervous that he didn't think he could eat anything. However, if it meant Bonnefoy was going to leave him alone for a while, Lovino decided he might as well let him go and fetch him breakfast.

As soon as Bonnefoy left, closing the door behind him, Lovino let his head drop on the table with a bang in a gesture of tired frustration. He regretted it immediately, because it sort of hurt and it certainly didn't help his headache. He wished he could just... disappear somewhere, away from Gianturco and Russo, away from his perfect brother and that suspicious foreign bastard, away from the traitorous Antonio and Bella, away from the creepy Bonnefoy. Even if just for a short while, he wanted to forget about all his problems and rest.

But of course, that was impossible now. He had barely got any sleep last night. He wondered if he would ever get a proper night of sleep from now on, without wondering if it would be his last, if he would be shot or stabbed as soon as he closed his eyes. Mr. Gianturco had promised to protect him, but Lovino trusted him as much as he trusted Count Russo. Even if Lovino could trust him to keep his word, he didn't think Il Sadico could possibly protect him all the time. If Count Russo was anything like his daughter, he wouldn't rest until Lovino was dead. He would kill anyone who got in the way. It was only a matter of time till he reached his goal.

No, Il Sadico couldn't really protect him, even if he tried. He could delay Russo, buy Lovino some time, but ultimately, Lovino was in God's hands. Yet, why should God help him? A sinner like him, an adulterer, a near murderer... Granted, he had gone through penance, but was it really enough? Could he really expect or even hope for a miracle still?

He was abruptly roused from his musings when a hand grabbed his shoulder, accompanied by a creepy, raspy voice. _Oh, God, they're here!_ Lovino thought frantically as he screamed and almost fell off his chair, fumbling for his gun. His hand was shaking so much that was it was a wonder he managed to pull the gun out and point it in the general direction of the man who had just sneaked up on him.

Even face to face with the man, it took Lovino several seconds to realise that the person standing before him looked familiar. It was that foreign bastard's brother, whom he had met at his birthday party.

"Easy, easy," said the man, his hands up in surrender as he looked at Lovino and the gun pointed at him with wide, anxious eyes. "It's me, Gilbert! Remember? Ludwig's brother? We met at your party only two days ago! I don't mean you any harm, so can you _please_ lower that gun now? Thanks. Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Me? You're the one who—who materialized out of thin air and sneaked up on me, you demon!" Lovino retorted, putting the gun away. "How the fuck did you get in here without making any noise? And what are you doing here?"

"I-I just wanted to give you a little scare, y'know. All in good fun," said Gilbert, frowning sullenly. "I didn't think you'd react that badly. You sure are jumpy." He took a seat at the chair that Lovino had previously been occupying and rested his feet on the table, not caring that he was getting dirt all over its pristine surface.

"That's it?" Lovino snarled, still breathing heavily from the fright. "Just—go to hell! Get the fuck out, you goddamn white freak!" Not only because he didn't want to be anywhere near Gilbert, but also because his legs felt quite unsteady and he really wanted to sit back down on that chair – he didn't think he could make it to the couch or the divan without stumbling in a very undignified way.

However, Gilbert completely ignored him. Now that he was recovered from the shock and no longer had a gun pointed at his person, he had the gall to give Lovino a lopsided, haughty smirk.

"Actually, I came here for another, more important reason," he said.

Lovino huffed. "Pray tell, what remotely important reason could _you_ have to bother me?" And seeing as Gilbert didn't seem at all inclined to move from his chair, Lovino risked the trip to the divan. He didn't stumble, but that still didn't help his mood at all. He flopped down on the divan and scowled, as if he resented the fact he had to settle with a less comfortable seat – in reality, the divan was much more comfortable than the chair, but that was beside the point.

Gilbert smirked at him, as if amused, but the mirth didn't quite reach his eyes, which only observed Lovino curiously, warily. It was the look of someone who was trying to solve some kind of riddle. However, that look only remained on his face for a moment, until Gilbert leant back on the chair and laced his hands behind his neck, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Mr. Gianturco hired me to be your bodyguard," he said bluntly, and the casual tone he used hit Lovino almost as hard as his words.

"What? Y-you work for Il Sadico?" Lovino managed to choke out as he sat up stiffly on the divan.

Gilbert didn't seem fazed by Lovino's shocked reaction, though. He merely shrugged and said, "Meh, I owe him money. This is my way of paying him back."

Lovino made a noise of disgust. "It figures. I knew you weren't trustworthy. I should have guessed that a suspicious freak like you would be in cahoots with that bastard."

Gilbert only raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's rich coming from you," he retorted. "I don't know the details, but aren't you on the same boat?" That smirk was back on his lips, his eyes glinting mischievously, mocking him without words. He clucked his tongue three times. "Just what _have _you got yourself into, kid? Does little Feli know that his brother has been doing shady business with the most powerful, most dangerous man in town? What would he say if he knew, I wonder?"

Lovino felt his face heat up and clenched his fists, but still managed to keep his temper in check. How dare this freak taunt him – even implicitly threaten him – like that?

"Does _your_ brother know?" he hissed, full of spite. "Does _Ludwig_ know that his brother works for that powerful, dangerous man?"

"Hey!" For the first time, Gilbert wiped that disgusting smirk off his face and frowned, quickly getting up and pointing a threatening finger at Lovino. "You leave Ludwig out of this!"

"Then you won't bring up Feliciano again," said Lovino, also getting up to face Gilbert, even though he inwardly felt intimidated by the significant difference in height between them.

Fortunately, Gilbert didn't seem to be in the mood to fight. He relaxed again, although his smile still didn't return.

"Fair enough," he conceded and held out his right hand, supposedly for a handshake. And much to Lovino's deep annoyance, that smug smirk was back on his face. "C'mon, let's not fight. We're going to spend a lot of time together from now on, so we gotta get along, don't you think?"

Lovino grimaced at the mere suggestion of spending any amount of time with Gilbert. Rather than shake his proffered hand, he spat on it and snapped, "I won't accept you as my bodyguard! I'll talk to Mr. Gianturco and demand that he find someone else for the job!"

Gilbert took one second to grimace at his hand before he was smirking again. Since Lovino had wisely moved away from him, he reached out for the divan, but then apparently decided that it looked too rich and nice to ruin and just wiped his hand on his own clothes.

"Oh, I really wouldn't do that if I were you," he said.

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want!" Lovino crossed his arms tightly, almost as if hugging himself defensively. "Mr. Gianturco said he doesn't want to k-kill me, because I owe him. He promised to _protect_ me. He wouldn't hurt me."

Gilbert sighed heavily, though he still looked thoroughly amused. "You know, I like you. You're feisty," he said. "And I like your brother, who also likes you. He'd be really sad if something happened to you, and I hate to see his sad face, so I'd rather try to avoid that from happening if I can help it. That's why I'm going to explain this to you in the simplest way possible instead of letting you go and get yourself maimed. You don't question that man's decisions. Ever. Yeah, he won't kill you, but he can still do other... unpleasant things to you. Things that would make you wish you _were_ dead. That's how it is, and you're really naïve if you thought otherwise even for a moment."

Lovino's fingers gripped his sleeves a little more tightly, his eyes staring at the floor as if trying to burn a hole into it. Of course he had known, when it came down to it, that he had no choice in this matter. His eyes stung as once again he felt cheated. He had been promised protection from the Russos, had been given this hateful freak instead, and couldn't even say a word of complaint.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," said Gilbert. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "I mean, if you get killed, I won't be paid." He then laughed again, that strange, raspy cackle that made him sound mental.

"If that's your idea of a joke..." Lovino muttered.

"I was just trying to lighten up the mood. Doesn't mean it isn't true, though."

"You know what? Fuck you. I think I'll be better off on my own. I don't need you or Mr. Gianturco," said Lovino, turning his back on him as his mind was already working out a escape plan.

Suddenly, a pale hand latched onto Lovino's shoulder, making him jump, and that grating voice whispered in his ear, "Not so fast. Since my generosity knows no limits, I'll tell you a little secret. You see, I'm not only supposed to be your bodyguard. Mr. Gianturco also hired me to keep an eye on you, to make sure you won't do anything stupid, like... oh, you know... try to escape on your own without paying your debt first." Rough, calloused fingers took a hold of Lovino's chin and turned it so that they were facing each other, only a few inches apart. "I'm going to be watching you like a hawk from now on." His red eyes, combined with those words and that predatory grin, looked even more devilish from this close up. Lovino tried to suppress a shudder and failed.

"Here's your break—Oh, my!" Francis Bonnefoy's voice made both men jump. "I'm so sorry for the, ah, interruption," he said, with a suggestive smile. "By all means, don't mind me and go on with your business, my dear gentlemen."

Lovino and Gilbert stared at him, then looked back at each other, and parted quickly, one disgusted and disturbed and the other grimly amused.

"Very funny, Francis," said Gilbert.

Bonnefoy cleared his throat and beckoned at one servant who had been standing behind him, holding a tray full of food. "Well, if you are absolutely certain you do not wish to continue with whatever it is that you were doing, here is something to improve Mr. Vargas' mood a little."

The food that the servant had brought him was more like lunch than breakfast, and it looked quite delicious. However, after his exchange with Gilbert, Lovino felt too sick to even think about food. At any rate, he could barely stand being subjected to either of these men's company, so being alone with both at the same time was a living nightmare.

"I'm going home," he managed to announce in a tremulous voice, quickly walking past them and out of the door. He ignored Bonnefoy's protests that he hadn't even tried the food, but he couldn't ignore Gilbert's steps and cackling trailing after him like a haunting ghost.

oOo

Caterina Russo was at a loss.

Most people who were remotely familiar with her father or sister wouldn't believe it, but a long time ago, her family had been happy and normal. Unfortunately, her mother had passed away when Caterina was still a child. Her father had been saddened by the loss, naturally. Even though their marriage had been arranged, the count had loved his wife very much, and the feeling had been mutual. They had been such a happy, lucky couple. However, he had eventually got over his wife's death – or so Caterina had assumed. He had taken comfort in the company of his two daughters and grown even more attached to them. He had been a wonderful, affectionate, attentive father to both Caterina and Natalia.

Caterina had never been frightened of him. She knew that other people found him a little disconcerting sometimes, but he wasn't a bad man. A little peculiar, maybe, quirky, but not bad. She heard whispers about how he had a cold, dangerous gaze, but when Caterina looked into his eyes, she only saw a veil of sadness and loneliness. The count had never had many friends. Not what he considered _real_ friends, anyway. It seemed that all people who were brave enough to try getting close to him were only after his wealth, his power, or his daughters. Trying to make real friends only led to one disappointment after another. No wonder her father had eventually become so avoidant and isolated. He had only had his daughters for company.

Unfortunately, one of the daughters had become too clingy. Frighteningly so. If people thought Count Russo was disconcerting, Natalia was ten times worse. Even her father was unsettled by how obsessed she seemed to be with him. He loved her, but that obsession of hers just wasn't healthy. He had decided that she must have been in need of a family of her own. And after a long time searching for a good suitor, he had finally found one – Lovino Vargas.

Caterina had actually felt sorry for the man at the time, and perhaps a little worried as well. She hadn't wanted to think this way about her little sister, but she had had this nagging suspicion that Natalia might actually try to murder him, or at the very least hurt him. Of course, she had also felt bad for Natalia, who had been so miserable about getting married and having to leave her beloved father behind. But she, too, had believed that it would be for Natalia's own good and that it would help her eventually get over her strange obsession.

As expected, tragedy had struck. However, the victim turned out to be Natalia herself. Caterina wasn't sure what exactly had happened; she could only speculate. Had Natalia attacked Lovino Vargas as Caterina had feared from the beginning, forcing him to strike back in self-defence? Had Lovino Vargas planned this all along, winning Count Russo's favour so he could marry Natalia and obtain her inheritance? Had it all been a tragic misunderstanding? Was Lovino even involved, or had he been picked as a scapegoat? Was he the victim, along with Natalia, targeted by the Gianturco family?

So many questions and no answers in the horizon. That was quite beside the point, however. Caterina mourned her sister's death, but she was more concerned about the living at the moment. To be more specific, about her father. He hadn't taken Natalia's death well at all. Perhaps losing his youngest daughter had been the last straw. When he had lost his wife, his expression had been sad; he would weep sometimes, wistfully look at the many paintings of his late wife, visit her grave and lay flowers on it. Now, however, he was doing none of that. It was rather the opposite.

It was uncanny, really. He kept _smiling_. He just sat on his favourite armchair in the sitting room or in his own bedroom all day, staring unseeingly at the blank wall, holding a bottle of liquor, and smiling an empty smile, his eyes devoid of life. He only moved to bring the bottle to his lips and swallow a mouthful of the vile beverage he had always been so fond of. He only spoke to order someone to fetch him another bottle – by the end of the day, the floor around his feet would be littered with empty bottles – and he seldom responded when anyone talked to him.

Caterina was really worried about her father. She had no idea what she could do to help him. She had been mostly leaving him alone until now, with only half-hearted attempts to coax him to come out of his stupor, because she had believed he would get over it on his own soon. She realised now that his situation was more serious than she had been willing to admit. She had to try to reach out for him, even though she feared it would prove fruitless.

Perhaps she should have tried to do so earlier. Just how far gone was he? What if it was too late?

"F-Father," she called out in a shaky, feeble voice. There was no response from him, though that might have been because she needed to speak up. She paused and tried to swallow the knot that had formed in her throat. She needed to be strong for once. She needed to do this. Her father needed her; she was the only one who could do this. "Father, please, look at me," she pleaded, standing before him.

His eyes continued to stare straight ahead, as if Caterina hadn't blocked his view from the wall at all. She touched one side of his face, surprised by how cold it felt against her fingers. She repeated her request, and her heart leapt when he actually raised his gaze to meet hers. He was actually looking at her, his eyes showing a glint of recognition and love, even if they were dulled by depression. They were bloodshot, but it looked like he was still, by some miracle, mostly sober.

"Caterina..." he whispered, his voice raspy and as feeble as hers. His smile stretched just a fraction. "You're still here."

"O-of course I'm still here, Father," she replied, giving him a tentative smile of her own. "I could never leave you when you're in this state."

"Everyone else has left," he said, a little more loudly now – just barely loud enough for Caterina to realise that it sounded oddly monotone. "They all leave, sooner or later. Always. Except you. You are a good girl, Caterina. You always were. A good, good girl."

Caterina wasn't sure how to respond. She had finally got him to talk, but she wasn't sure if this was an improvement. There was something... off about him and his words. It was like looking at the reflection of a painting in a mirror; it felt all wrong, all backwards.

"Father..." she said, but nothing else came out. Words just failed her.

"Natalia was a good girl, too," continued her father. "A little eccentric and clingy, but I remember what a sweet child she had been. She promised she would never leave me. I..." His voice seemed to catch in his throat, and his smile wavered slightly. "I loved her. Even though I tried to avoid her and forced her to move away... I never meant for this to happen to her. Never! You believe me, don't you, Caterina? You don't blame me, do you? Is it my fault? Do you think she blames me?" His smile was there, now strangely wide, frozen, as were his eyes. Caterina felt her blood run cold.

"N-no, no, it's n-not your fault, Father," she quickly reassured him. "You c-couldn't have known that was g-going to happen to her. It's not your fault. I'm sure Natalia doesn't blame you, either."

"Sometimes she comes to see me at night," he said in that dull voice, his eyes still wide. "She says it's my fault. She says I should have never forced her to leave me. She says that is why she left me for good, just like her mother. She says her mother also blames me and thinks that I'm a horrible father."

"Y-you're not!" Caterina protested. She touched the other side of his face with her other hand. Both hands were shaking violently, and she could feel her eyes burn, but she forced herself to remain strong, for her father's sake. "None of that is true, and you're a wonderful father! Th-that's—you're just having nightmares; it's all in your head! Mother and Natalia are resting in peace, and I'm sure they wouldn't blame you for what happened."

"And yet they left me," he whispered, covering her left hand with his own – Caterina almost flinched at how cold it felt against her skin. "Like everyone else. But you won't leave, will you, Caterina? You're such a good, good girl. You're not like the others. You will never leave me. Never, ever, ever..."

Too fast for someone who had drunk at least three bottles of hard liquor and was probably delirious, his hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her into an awkward embrace. Caterina almost lost her balance, but managed to right herself and hug him back, not letting even a whimper escape her lips when the embrace became too tight and possessive, his nails digging a little into her back. Her father continued to whisper the same words over and over again, apparently lost in his own nightmare.

"You will never leave me. Promise me. Promise me, promise me. Never leave me. You will stay with me forever. Never leave me alone. You are a good girl, so I know you will do it. Promise me. Promise me. Caterina, promise me."

Caterina's arms also tightened around her father's quivering frame. "I promise, Father," she managed to say, her eyes blurry with tears that she could no longer hold back. She felt them trail down her face, chilling in the air before they dropped on her father's shoulder and face. "I promise I will never leave you."


	12. Forgotten

**A/N**: In which my Prussia/Romano bias shows in a very obvious way. As does my love for angst. Hopefully, the next chapter will be a little more light-hearted.

Thank you very much for the reviews, **foxyaoi123**, **VampireNaomi**, **Linda**, and **anon**! They made me insanely happy!

* * *

– **CHAPTER 12 –**

_**Forgotten**_

Having left the opera house, Lovino fully intended to head straight home and stay there for the rest of the day. The less time he spent outside, the better. He would only be exposing himself to danger, after all. He walked at a quick pace, not fast enough for it to be considered running, but hopefully fast enough to make his new stalker at least a little tired.

However, on the way home, he caught sight of something that made him stop in his tracks and stare. Antonio and Bella were together, as expected, but they weren't alone. Feliciano was with them, mirroring their merry expressions and laughing. There was also another girl, the pretty but touchy girl who had doused Lovino in wine at his birthday party. She looked as happy as them now, all traces of moodiness gone, and her smile was simply breathtaking. Next to Feliciano was Ludwig, as usual, and while he wasn't grinning like the others, there was the smallest hint of a smile. At the very least, his expression was the softest Lovino had ever seen on him, as if he were almost having fun for once.

Lovino watched them from a safe distance, a plethora of emotions taking hold of him. There were mostly negative emotions, such as hatred at Ludwig and resentment towards each and every one in that group. They all looked so happy and carefree, whereas Lovino was caught in a family vendetta and dealing with creepy idiots in order to survive. Even though Antonio and Bella were supposed to be having a date, Feliciano and Ludwig had joined them and the couple seemed to be fine with that. Had they invited Feliciano beforehand, and not Lovino? And that woman – Elisabetta, was it? – what was she doing there? Why did she look so happy and friendly towards everyone except him? If only she had given him that beautiful, radiant smile on the day they had met, Lovino could have died happy... Well, all right, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but his point remained.

There wasn't only anger, though. In the innermost depths of his heart, he also could feel bittersweet longing. He figured this was how prisoners felt when they looked at the bright outside world from inside their dark cells. Despite his resentment, it did look like a nice group to be be with. His bubbly brother, his two best friends, a pretty girl... all together, all having fun. Although Lovino wasn't very social, he hated being alone. He wished he could be just like them, surrounded by friends, happy, without a care in the world. He wished he could join them, right now... yet he couldn't bring himself to. Not on his own. Maybe if one of them saw him and called him over...

But of course, they never noticed him standing there, watching them. They were too caught up in their own world, a world that, admittedly, Lovino probably had no place in. He stayed right where he was, though, and continued to just watch them, half-hoping that they would see him, half-hoping they wouldn't, while his soul ached with loneliness and he cursed himself for being so pathetic.

"It's disgusting, isn't it?" said a raspy voice right next to him, startling Lovino. "Look at them! They just stand there and laugh like clowns. They're so simple-minded. I pity them." Gilbert was also watching the group, and despite his contemptuous words and mocking smirk, Lovino could tell he didn't mean it. He could see it in his eyes, could see his own longing and loneliness reflected on them. It was painful to watch, even more painful than watching the group.

"You're just jealous," he muttered dismissively.

"Nah." Gilbert laughed and shook his head. "I love being on my own. It's much more fun that way. No one to lecture me or order me around or call me names. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, and I don't have to care about what my so-called 'friends' are going to think. Honestly, I'm better off this way, and so are you, so you can stop looking like a kicked puppy now."

Lovino sputtered, his face heating up again. "I-I'm not—I don't—I was just feeling sorry for you because you're such a pitiful loser without friends! I'm not like you; _I_ have friends! I have Antonio and Bella, who risked their own lives to help me! They're real friends!" he boasted.

Gilbert's smirk now looked more like a snarl. "Then why aren't you with them?"

"B-because I don't feel like it! Just because they're my friends doesn't mean I have to be with them all the time! Besides, your stupid brother is there, and I don't want to be anywhere near him!"

"Liar," said Gilbert smugly. "You're even more pitiful than you say I am! You have friends, but you don't even have the guts to join them! Loser!" he laughed again, even though his eyes looked unusually bright. Lovino's eyes also stung and his throat felt uncomfortably tight, preventing him from retorting in a dignified way. So they just glared at each other in silence, looking like they were about to burst into tears.

In reality, they both made quite a pitiful pair. It was, in a way, a little comforting to know there was someone in this world who was as pathetic as him, if not more.

A light cough caught their attention and they turned to see Elisabetta standing before them, her face void of the cheer from minutes ago. With a quick glance at where the group had been conversing, Lovino could see that they had dispersed at some point during his argument with Gilbert. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, though he was also glad that he didn't have to watch them any more.

Elisabetta frowned at them. "Excuse me, but are you two crying? Did something happen?"

"Yes, I'm crying!" announced Gilbert, grinning like a maniac. "I'm crying tears of joy! I'm so happy to be alone that I'm crying!" He laughed again, ignoring Elisabetta's wary look. She then gave Lovino an inquisitive, worried look.

Lovino quickly wiped his eyes just in case. "'S just allergies," he muttered with a sniffle.

"Oh. Do you have hay fever?"

"No, I'm just allergic to idiots," he grumbled, with a pointed glare at Gilbert. When his gaze returned to Elisabetta, his expression softened and his lips curled into a suave smile almost on instinct. "But now that you are here, it should get better, Miss..." Oh, dammit, he couldn't for the life of him remember her family name.

"Magherini," she supplied, not looking very amused. Oops. However, despite her cold tone of voice, she also looked uncomfortable, as if she had done something wrong. She even kept her gaze on the ground. "Mr. Vargas, I would like to apologise for my... outburst... at your birthday party. I was upset and I wasn't thinking straight, but that is no excuse. I'm sorry."

Lovino was speechless for a moment. He wasn't used to receiving apologies, especially not from people who sounded genuinely regretful. Usually, he was the one who was expected to apologise, even when it wasn't his fault.

"Oh... uh... That's all right," he told her, a little uncertainly. Elisabetta nodded, and when she raised her head again, her eyes were cold again. She spared a quick yet clearly meaningful glance at Gilbert, who was also unusually quiet and lacking that irritating smirk. "Mr. Vargas, you are Feliciano's brother, so I'm sure you're a good person. But, as you know, even the best of men can fall when they are surrounded by the wrong people. I suggest you choose your friends wisely."

"Oh, wow, very subtle, Elisabetta!" scoffed Gilbert. "Since when do you talk like a polished, respectful lady? The Elisabetta I know would have just said, 'Stay the hell away from that fucker if you know what's good for you!' Are you actually trying to impress this loser?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she said, giving him a chilling smile.

"In any case, you don't have to worry, Miss Magherini," interjected Lovino. "Believe me when I say I wish I could be as far away from this... person as humanly possible."

Her smile turned a little crooked at his words. "Good, Mr. Vargas. You're smarter than you look. Well, gentlemen—I mean, gentle_man_—I must go now. I'll see you later."

A little peeved by the backhanded compliment, Lovino muttered a polite farewell and watched her walk away until she disappeared around the corner.

"So, is she your ex-girlfriend or something like that?" he asked.

"Something like that," replied Gilbert, sounding like he had a very bitter taste in his mouth. "She's a real bitch. You should stay away from her."

"At least she's pretty. Between you and her, I'd take her company over yours any day of the week, even if I had to take another wine bath." Why was he still talking to this freak, again? He did want to get as far away from him as humanly possible, didn't he?

"No, seriously, she will kick your ass if you get on her bad side," said Gilbert, following Lovino when he also began to walk away.

"She can't be worse than my wife."

"What—You're married? You?"

Lovino hesitated. Although he sometimes referred to Natalia as his wife, he didn't really know if that term was accurate, since they had never consummated their marriage and had been together for such a short time. He had no intention of revealing that much to this man, however. He had already talked too much, anyway. "I _was_. She—I'm a widower." Because half-truths made the best lies.

"Oh... er... I'm sorry..."

Lovino arched an eyebrow as he surreptitiously stole a glance at Gilbert. For the first time ever, Gilbert was the one who looked ill at ease, awkward, embarrassed. Well, well, so he did have enough grace to be serious once in a while, huh? Oh, but this was just perfect. Gilbert was actually feeling bad! Lovino had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep himself from smirking. He could use this for his advantage. If Gilbert really had a soft heart under that crust of smugness, surely the idiot wouldn't refuse answering a poor widower's question?

"So, what's the deal with Miss Magherini?" he asked, not even trying to be subtle. It was in his nature to be blunt, after all, and subtlety would probably have gone right over Gilbert's head. Better cut straight to the chase.

"Geez, why are you so interested in her, anyway? You thinking about wooing her or something?"

"Maybe I am," said Lovino, perhaps a little too casually. "Maybe I am trying to fill the void that my late wife left in my heart – not to mean the void in my lineage, since we never had any children." The latter part came out more or less by accident, to make up for the preceding mushiness that made him gag a little inside.

He must have said the right thing, though, because from the corner of his eye he could see Gilbert shudder in apparent revulsion before he burst out, "Well, if that's what you're after, I'll say it again, stay away from that bitch. Even God knows she's no wife material. For your information, she's been engaged three times. Three! Honestly, what kind of woman fails to get married three times? First she was supposed to marry Roderich Edelstein, and then—"

"Roderich Edelstein?" exclaimed Lovino. "_The_ Roderich Edelstein? The guy who adopted me and my brother?"

"Huh? He adopted you, too?" Gilbert frowned. "I had no idea. Why weren't you living with Feliciano when I met him, then?"

Lovino's first impulse was to reply with his usual, "None of your fucking business," but he hesitated before a single word got out. If he refused to say anything now, Gilbert might also refuse to disclose any more information, or maybe he would pester Lovino until he got his answer. Once again, he chose to tell a half-truth, weighing his words very carefully:

"He couldn't stand me because I refused to kiss his ass, so he sent me back to the orphanage." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, even though he had never liked Edelstein. It was just so humiliating, how he had been returned to the orphanage like that, like some kind of defective good being returned to its seller.

He half-expected Gilbert to laugh at him yet again, to mock him for such a humiliation. What he didn't expect was an appreciative pat on the back.

"I'm liking you more and more, Feliciano's brother," said Gilbert. "You must have driven that bastard crazy, if he preferred to just get rid of you rather than try to discipline you. Anyone who defies Roderich Edelstein and pisses him off like that is worthy of my respect." Oddly enough, he sounded as though he meant every word.

"As if I wanted or needed your so-called respect," spat Lovino. And yet, a small part of him was... rather flattered. No one had ever respected him. Ever. Everyone had only ever seen him as that difficult, weak, useless brat, pitied by some and despised by others. The girls who had admired him and flirted with him didn't count, as they had been oblivious to his true nature. No one who really knew him had ever appreciated his contentious attitude. And here Gilbert was, praising him for it and sounding very sincere about it. It was a whole new and strange feeling. Now, if only someone he actually cared about would praise him like that, at least once in his life...

"Anyway," Gilbert went on, seemingly oblivious to Lovino's wistful mood, "Elisabetta was supposed to marry the sissy bastard after his wife died." His tone was as casual as before, but there was a rather long, strange pause before he continued, "But shit happened and they had to call it off. She was absolutely devastated. She really liked the guy, you know? He tried to make it up to her by arranging a marriage between her and me."

"You? Why you? How can he even decide such a thing when you're not even—"

"Geez, are you really gonna make me say it? It's embarrassing." Gilbert mumbled something else under his breath and pouted, kicking at a small pebble on the ground, like a big, petulant child. Lovino couldn't make out a single word.

"Come again?"

"I'm his son, okay?" Gilbert burst out, attracting a few odd glances from passers-by. "Or I _was_, until he disowned me and I left home – which I was going to do anyway, because it's not like I wanted or needed his money or possessions."

Lovino stared at him in disbelief. "You're his son?"

"No! Weren't you listening? He disowned me – though not before _I_ disowned _him_, mind you. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I was never his son to begin with. We don't look alike at all, do we? Do we?"

"Er—"

"That's what I thought. Mother must have got herself an awesome lover like the smart woman she was. Hah! Take that, Edelstein! Cuckold!" He cackled.

Lovino began to slowly inch away from the raving madman next to him.

"Anyway, as I was saying," Gilbert continued, wrapping his arm around Lovino's shoulder and preventing him from escaping, "my marriage with Elisabetta had to be called off, too, for obvious reasons. It'd never have worked out, anyway; we were always at each other's throats. But then, because Edelstein felt bad again, he got her engaged with my little brother Heinrich. Or so I heard. I was already out of town by then, so I only heard about what happened later on."

"I think I've heard of that Heinrich, actually," said Lovino pensively. "I never met him; I think he was in some other town studying when I came to live with the Edelsteins."

"Yeah, I heard about that, too."

Lovino fell silent, waiting for Gilbert to continue his story. However, Gilbert seemed to have got lost in a world of his own, his gaze unreadable and staring unseeingly into the distance. Feeling impatient, Lovino cleared his throat.

"And then?"

Gilbert looked mildly startled, but then shrugged and said, "And then he died."

Lovino was disturbed. Not so much by the fact that Gilbert's little brother had died, but by the casual way in which he had said it. Gilbert had obviously been pained when mentioning his mother's death – what else would explain that long, heavy pause? – and yet the death of his little brother didn't seem to affect him at all. Could it be that they hadn't got along? Perhaps Gilbert resented his brother... for being their father's favourite child, maybe? That would mean that their relationship had been akin to that between Lovino and Feliciano, but...

Lovino tried to imagine how he would feel if his own brother died. Despite the jealousy and resentment, the mere idea upset him. No, he wouldn't have been that indifferent about his brother's death. Even the death of his grandfather, whom he also resented deeply, still pained him. What was Gilbert's problem, then?

"Did you not get along with your brother?" he asked him.

Another casual shrug. "Eh, I did like him, but we weren't very close, you know. His father tried to keep us apart – he insisted that I was a bad influence on Heinrich – and besides, we were really different, personality-wise. Heinrich was a quiet sort of guy; he liked to be by himself and he didn't like disobeying his father. We rarely got to see each other, let along talk. We were like strangers to each other. Poor kid. He had a lot of potential."

Lovino almost – _almost_ – asked, "Potential for what?" but then decided he would be better off not knowing. Roderich Edelstein might have been a bastard, but he had got one thing right; Gilbert was a terrible influence and should probably never be allowed to interact with children. That twisted mind of his could easily corrupt the innocent and model them after himself. Lovino shuddered at the mere thought. God forbid any more Gilberts in this world, because one was bad enough.

Since Gilbert had fallen into a brooding silence once again, Lovino was about to call him back on topic... only to realise that he had no idea what they had been talking about in the first place. At some point they had gone on a tangent about Gilbert's little brother, but Lovino couldn't see how that was relevant at all—No, wait, they had been talking about Elisabetta, right?

"But what does that have to do with Miss Magherini?" he wondered out loud.

Gilbert paused and blinked, as if wondering the same thing himself, until he finally remembered.

"Oh, yeah, my point was... er... stay away from Elisabetta! She always turns every marriage into a disaster! It's like she's cursed or something."

However, Lovino wasn't paying attention any more, having completely lost interest in what Gilbert had to say. He had just confirmed what he had known all along: Gilbert was full of shit. And he had got his answer; there was nothing wrong with Elisabetta. All Lovino wanted now was to go home, away from this nuisance.

"I need a drink," he announced in a moment of insight.

"Oh, man, me too," said Gilbert, suddenly very eager.

They headed to the tavern, where Lovino ordered some of their best wine and Gilbert ordered cheap, disgusting-looking beer. Gilbert kept ranting about Edelstein and Elisabetta and occasionally told tasteless jokes – which, admittedly, were pretty funny – and then he even taught Lovino a few curses in his native language. In the end, Lovino still thought German was a horrible, ugly language, but he had to admit that it was excellent for cursing; the harsh sounds were perfect for it, so angry and intimidating.

However, he wasn't here for fun. He had come to this place with a very specific purpose in mind. After a few hours of slow, moderate drinking, watching his companion drink cup after cup without a care in the world, Lovino stood up from his seat, swayed a little for show, leant over Gilbert, and slurred, "I'm gonna take a piss. Be right back."

"'Kay!" replied Gilbert, sniggering uncontrollably at some joke he had just told himself.

Lovino calmly walked to the door. Once outside, he ran.

oOo

Lovino was almost happy. After all, he had finally lost Gilbert and he could finally have some peace, and he had even picked Gilbert's coin purse in the process. Sadly, this peace would only last as long as it took for Gilbert to sober up and realise that Lovino wasn't coming back, but at least he could get some respite now. Still, this one good thing wasn't nearly enough to make up for his terrible morning, and his mood was still quite sour.

"Oh, you're back, Lovino!" his brother greeted him as soon as he entered the house. "How did it go with Francis? Did you like the opera house? Have you already started rehearsing?"

"Don't be stupid, Feliciano," muttered Lovino, too tired to give a proper rant about how he hated Francis Bonnefoy and how he thought this whole idea had been beyond stupid.

"Well, you can tell me all about it later," said Feliciano, undeterred. "Or you can come with me and tell me on the way. I was just about to go out. I want to paint the city from the bridge; it looks just stunning around this time of the year. Ludwig is coming with me. Why don't you come along, too?"

And suddenly, as if summoned by name, _he_ was there, with his intimidating aura in full force as he loomed behind the blissfully oblivious Feliciano.

"A-as if I'd want to g-go anywhere with that b-bastard!" he snapped, trying to glare back at Ludwig, but the effect was ruined by the stammering and the shaking of his body. Ludwig looked like he was ready to kill him with his bare hands.

"Well, if you're sure!" chirped Feliciano. "If you change your mind, you can join us any time. I'll be back in time for dinner, okay? Bye!"

Rather than respond to his brother's words, Lovino kept glaring at Ludwig, filled with so much hatred that he felt as though he were going to burst. God, how he loathed that man! He hadn't forgotten about his humiliation the day before at all. Oh, but Ludwig would pay for it, that was for sure. Lovino would have his revenge.

He continued to watch them from the window, sneering when his brother latched onto Ludwig's arm like a lovestruck girl. It was so wrong on so many levels that Lovino could barely watch, and he begged God to have mercy on his brother's innocent soul. It wasn't Feliciano's fault that he was an idiot. He must have dropped as a baby or something.

At the same time, a part of him envied Feliciano for having someone like Ludwig. Ludwig did everything for him, from helping him get dressed to carrying him when he was too tired, and he always kept him company. He didn't look like he was having fun, and he would sometimes complain about his master's flighty nature, but all things considered, he was admirably patient and tolerant. He was always there to help Feliciano and get him out of trouble when needed.

Lovino hated Ludwig with every fiber of his being, but even he could see his good qualities. Ludwig was strong, efficient, alert, reliable, and obedient. Like a good soldier. If only Lovino had someone like him as his bodyguard, he would never have to worry about being attacked. He would feel much safer with such a person than with Gilbert. Honestly, what kind of bodyguard allowed himself to get drunk and robbed and lose sight of his charge so easily? Lovino could never trust such an incompetent fool with his life.

No wonder Feliciano looked so happy all the time. He lacked nothing but good sense. He was so lucky. In fact, he was as lucky as Lovino was unlucky. It just wasn't fair.

With a sigh, Lovino withdrew from the window as soon as the pair was out of his sight. Apparently, Antonio and Bella hadn't come back yet, and the servants would probably try to avoid him like the plague. They didn't like him because he kept breaking things and making messes, and they seemed to think he was too rude and unkind. Ludwig almost certainly had spoken unfavourable things about him, too, and got them all against him.

In other words, he pretty much had the house to himself for the next hours. He wandered around, feeling a little restless, and the servants did an amazing job at avoiding him, because he could swear he was all alone in the house. The silence was overwhelming, broken – and, ironically, accentuated – by the faint, distant ticking of a grandfather clock.

It was like the universe was mocking him, doing everything it could to point out how miserable and lonely Lovino was. Everyone else was out having fun, and here he was, confined to his own house, all alone and unable to even take his frustration out on anyone. He almost regretted having left Gilbert behind at the tavern.

Almost. He wasn't _that_ desperate quite yet.

He must have been so lost in his own thoughts that he had taken a wrong turn at some point, because Lovino suddenly realised that he was in an unfamiliar part of the house. Feliciano's theory that Lovino had got lost in his own house wasn't entirely out there; Lovino had never had a fantastic sense of direction, nor had he ever taken the time to explore certain parts of the house, and this was a _huge_ house. It was easy to get lost in it. It could have happened to _anyone_, really!

Now, normally, he would have just been glad that there was no one here to laugh at him for getting lost in his own house and then kept walking until he located himself. This wasn't the first time he had got lost – it had been a common occurrence in his childhood – and he had managed just fine most of those times.

But this time, it was different. He felt oddly anxious. Maybe it was because this part of the house was so dark and silent. It was a little creepy. And maybe it was only his imagination, but he felt as though he were being watched. The realisation that this could very well be true didn't help at all. He was being hunted by the Russos, after all, and now that his alleged bodyguard was stupidly drinking himself into a stupor at the tavern, Lovino was an even easier target. It could be just like the evening of his birthday, when those brutes had jumped from the shadows and dragged him away into a dark room, only this time they would do much worse things than blackmail him. And it could happen any time now!

He staggered, suddenly feeling very dizzy, so that he had to lean on the wall for support. The continuous ticking of that clock now sounded as loud as if it were right inside his head, reverberating and making it very difficult to think. In the distance, he thought he could hear someone approaching, and when he stared into the dark corridor, he thought he saw something move in the shadows, and something glint, maybe a knife?

Oh, God, they were here! They were going to kill him, and his body was paralysed in fear; he couldn't even reach for his gun or any of his knives! He tried to scream for help, even if he doubted there would be anyone to help him, but he wasn't sure if he was making any sound, because he couldn't hear anything but that accursed, deafening clock. He tried to summon words of prayer to his mind, but none came; he was so overcome with terror and panic that he was no longer capable of coherent thought.

_Oh God_, _oh God, _was all he could think frantically as he closed his eyes tightly. _Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh G—_

oOo

When he came to, all he knew was that his head hurt and he felt very cold, so that he tried and only half-succeeded to curl up on his side in a vain attempt to preserve warmth. The next thing he realised was that he was lying on a hard surface. He had no idea where he was or how he had ended up there, but he was too exhausted to move or even think about anything. He just lay there and breathed, waiting for his headache to abate a little. He could hear the ticking of a clock, faint enough that it didn't aggravate his headache, and the sound felt rather reassuring and soothing in what would otherwise have been absolute, suffocating silence.

Some time passed. He couldn't tell how long he had stayed there, but it must have been at least an hour. It certainly felt like days, though. In the meantime, he gradually became aware of his surroundings and began to remember what had happened prior to his blackout. He remembered he had got lost in his house and thought he was going to be attacked. Well, he was still here and unharmed, save for the headache – even his weapons were still with him – so there had been no one around, after all, either enemy or friend.

He must have had one of those fits. A mild one, most likely. That would explain everything, including why he had freaked out like that. He wasn't _that_ paranoid, or at least he didn't think so. He had probably been hallucinating or something.

While relieved that he was still alive, Lovino couldn't bring himself to feel any happier. Not even a year ago, he had been celebrating the fact that he hadn't had a fit for a whole year, filled with hope that he'd been cured at last, and now he'd had two in the span of three days. This was a very bad omen. Worse yet, no one had come to help him at all. After all these hours, no one had noticed he was missing and come looking for him, because they were too busy having a date or painting a bridge or drinking beer or whatever. He could have died and no one would have known! He could have cracked his skull open in his fall or been attacked for real by Russo's men, and no one would have noticed it. They would only have found his cold corpse days later, he would bet. Or maybe one of the servants had seen him lying here, but hadn't even bothered to help. He wouldn't put it past them, the spiteful bastards.

Even when he was fully alert again and felt strong enough to get up, he remained curled up on the floor, shivering a little from the cold and choked up with frustration, just waiting to see if someone would come after all. Better later than never, right? It was silly of him, and he scorned himself for it, but he still hoped that someone would come to his assistance. Anyone would do, even one of the servants. Even Ludwig or Bonnefoy. It was better than being all alone like this, like a discarded piece of trash no one cared about.

He waited for a long time, but no one came. The house was still completely silent. And he couldn't help the thought that he was to blame for his current situation. At least to himself, he was ready to admit it; it was his fault that he was all alone now. He could have swallowed his pride and joined Antonio and Bella, without caring that he would be a third wheel. He could have joined Feliciano, without allowing himself to feel annoyed by Ludwig or jealous that Feliciano could paint that fucking bridge so well. He could have stayed at the tavern with Gilbert and told some obscene jokes of his own, learnt a few more swearwords in German. Heck, he could even have stayed at the opera house and got to know his future co-workers, after eating that nice breakfast that Francis Bonnefoy had brought him. But no, he had run away from everybody. It seemed that was all he ever did in his life now. He ran away from his problems, from his responsibilities, even from his own family and friends.

At last, he unsteadily got up on his feet, no longer able to hold back the bitter tears that had been prickling at his eyes. He was so angry, so angry at himself and at the whole world, that he felt as if he were losing his mind. He just wanted to break something, so make someone hurt as badly as him. An involuntary roar tore from deep within his chest and he grabbed the nearest object – a small portrait on the wall – and threw it with all his might on the floor. He then proceeded to scream bloody murder and yell random curses at no one in particular while knocking over and smashing everything breakable he found in his way – portraits, vases, mirrors, statues... If it were possible, he would have reduced the entire house to ruins.

"Bastards! Fuck you all! Damn you! God damn you to hell! Shit! I hate you!"

"Hey!"

He almost passed out again from sheer fright at the sound of another voice suddenly by his ear and two strong hands wrapping firmly around his wrists. Lovino looked over his shoulder and was met with a very pale face. It took him a moment to recognise it.

"G-Gilbert?" he asked, breathing harshly. He wasn't very reassured by the scowl he got in response.

"Yeah, glad you still remember me," growled Gilbert, squeezing Lovino's wrists and making him flinch in pain. "After waiting at the fucking tavern for hours, I was pretty sure you'd forgotten about me." He craned his neck a little to take a better look at Lovino's face and smirked. "Wow! Are you so awed and delighted by my awesome presence that you've been reduced to tears?"

That was when Lovino realised that, yes, he was still crying. He would have wiped the tears, if only Gilbert weren't still holding his wrists, so all he could do to preserve what little was left of his dignity was sniff and snap, "Fuck you! As if anyone could forget such an ugly face! I left you there on purpose, you gullible sucker! I wanted to get rid of you!"

"Is that so? Then I forgive you," Gilbert said and let go of Lovino's wrists. "I'd have been sad if you'd just forgotten about me, but if that was all a carefully crafted masterplan to escape, I must commend you on your genius."

Lovino couldn't tell if Gilbert was being sarcastic, nor did he care to at the moment. Now that the anger had drained out of him and the shock of Gilbert's sudden arrival had passed, Lovino felt dizzy with exhaustion. He fell back against Gilbert, who made sure he remained upright.

"Hey, are you all right? What were you doing, anyway? Is there a particular reason why you were throwing a temper tantrum in this dark, abandoned part of the mansion? Why are you even here in the first place? No one ever comes here any more. Look, it's all dusty here. Even the servants won't come to this part of the house."

Lovino blinked sluggishly. So, this part of the house was abandoned? Maybe it was no wonder that no one had come to help him, then, since no one would have thought to look here in the first place.

But... someone _had_ come looking for him, in the end, even if a bit too late. Perhaps not with the intention to help him, but neither was it with the intention to cause him serious harm.

"H-how... how did you find me, then? If no one ever comes here..."

"Idiot," said Gilbert, giving him what was probably supposed to be a light-hearted slap on the head, but it made his head ring in a most unpleasant, sickening way. "I've been looking all over for you ever since I realised you weren't coming back to the tavern. I was really mad; I was sure you were going to flee the town or something stupid like that, and then I'd be the one to pay for it. But I came here hoping I'd be able to catch you still getting supplies or something. As soon as I came in, I knew you'd be here. I could hear you throwing a fit here; it wasn't hard to find you at all. Thanks for making my life a lot easier."

"Bastard," muttered Lovino, with an elbow to Gilbert's side. Now standing on his own, he turned his back to him and wiped his tears, sniffling and feeling like a little kid. Gilbert made no move to approach him again, and when Lovino looked back at him, the man appeared to be a little uncertain.

"Um, hey, I don't know what happened to make you, er, freak out like that, but, you know, you look like shit."

"No shit," Lovino snapped.

"No, really, you look dead on your feet—"

"Yes, I get it! Shut the fuck up already!"

"But I really—Aww, man, look what you've done!" Gilbert suddenly turned his attention to one of the portraits that Lovino had thrown to the floor. He knelt down to clear the pieces of a broken vase off it. "Feliciano isn't going to be happy about this."

"Why should he care about some old portrait that was in an abandoned part of the house?"

"For the same reason I care. This is my little brother Heinrich. I told you about him earlier today, remember?"

Curious despite himself, Lovino came closer and squinted in the dark to take a look at the portrait. Gilbert picked it up and held it in a way that it caught the faint light streaming from a window in an adjacent corridor. Lovino could now see, if just barely, two people in the portrait. One of them was familiar to him, belonging to Roderich Edelstein, looking as poised and snobbish as Lovino remembered him. The other one was a child, a young boy, with fair hair and skin. He also looked familiar, though...

"Isn't he cute? He took after his mother in appearance, thank God," remarked Gilbert.

"He looks like a fucking bully," said Lovino bluntly.

"Nah. He tried to look mean and tough, but he was really weak, and deep down he was a sweet guy."

Lovino stared at the portrait a little longer. He suddenly had a rather odd feeling about it...

"You know," he began, his voice guarded, "he really reminds me of that bastard Ludwig."

"Oh?"

"Your adopted little brother."

"Uh-huh?"

"I mean, _really_ reminds me of him."

"Yeah?"

Lovino turned to glare at Gilbert in silent accusation.

"Hey, why do you think I adopted Ludwig?" Gilbert laughed. "I mean, do I look like the kind of guy who goes around adopting random kids in the street for fun? No fucking way! I adopted him exactly because he reminded me so much of Heinrich! I wanted to see how he'd have turned out if I'd been allowed to give him my 'bad influence' from the start."

"Apparently, you failed."

"Yeah, Ludwig is still a stick-in-the-mud. Shame."

Lovino shook his head and straightened up. Why was he still here talking to this moron? He was very tired, and he really wanted to get out of this dark labyrinth.

"Whatever. Let's just get out of here."

Now that he had Gilbert to guide him, he found himself back in a familiar area of the house in no time. Hearing excited voices coming from the main hall, Lovino headed that way and saw that Feliciano, Ludwig, Antonio, and Bella were back. Oh, sure, now that he didn't need their help any more, they were all here.

"What took you so fucking long, dammit?" was how he greeted them.

"Oh, Lovino..." Bella began, and before she even said anything else, Lovino was filled with guilt. No matter how mad he was, it didn't feel right to yell at her, and not only because she was a pretty girl. He averted his gaze, wishing he could hide in a hole somewhere, and retreated from the hall before Bella had the chance to talk to him.

oOo

Dinner was a nightmare for him, and pretty awkward for almost everyone else. Feliciano had been clearly upset when he'd heard of the destruction in that abandoned corridor, though Lovino had no idea why it was such a big deal. He hadn't yelled at Lovino or anything, but he was clearly upset and his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Antonio and Bella kept asking Lovino questions about how his morning in the opera house, even though Lovino refused to talk about it. In fact, he ignored them altogether, even when they changed the topic of their conversation. Ludwig alternated between glaring daggers at him and throwing worried glances at Feliciano. Meanwhile, Gilbert complained that he had been robbed and couldn't pay for the drinks at the tavern.

Lovino just played with his food, listless and weary. He wasn't hungry at all – if anything, he felt a little sick to his stomach – and he was sure the servants had spat in his food. Feliciano hadn't been the one to cook it, and the servants had been less than pleased about the mess in the abandoned corridor that they had to clean up. At this rate, Russo's men weren't the only ones he would have to worry about.

"Hey, guys! May I have a moment of your attention, please? Guys! Shut up!" Gilbert spoke up all of a sudden, interrupting Antonio and Bella's conversation about the beauty of Terraverde. Everyone turned to look at him, including Lovino, and Gilbert looked even smugger than usual under all the attention he was getting. "I have great news! From now on, I'll be living here in Feliciano's house!"

Lovino and Ludwig dropped their forks.

"Wow, that's great!" said Antonio. "Now we can see each other more often!"

"But, Gilbert, I thought you hated this house!" said Feliciano in surprise.

No, no, Feliciano was doing it wrong; that wasn't what he was supposed to say at all! The first thing he should have said was, "Hell, no!" followed by, "You can't just decide that on your own! This is _my_ house now!" Stupid Feliciano.

"I hated it when it belonged to that prissy bastard, and I still think it's kinda too stuffy for my tastes, but you know, I have no choice. Now that I'm Feliciano's brother's butler, I have to live here, so that whenever he needs my help, I'll be there for him."

Feliciano started giggling for some reason. Antonio also looked amused, but there was a glint of something like unease in his eyes. Bella just blinked in surprise and turned to stare at Lovino, who was seriously considering hiding under the table before this could get any worse. He didn't know _how_ it could get any worse, but he had no doubt that it would.

"Gilbert, be serious for once," said the Voice of Reason, otherwise known as Ludwig.

"I _am_ serious! Now I work for Feliciano's brother, just like you work for Feliciano. It's not fair that only you get to work for a cute Vargas. Now I have my own cute Vargas to pamper and torment, depending on my mood." He cackled again.

"Well, I think it's a great idea," Feliciano chimed in. "Now that Antonio and Bella are together, Lovino might get a little lonely sometimes. I'm happy he's made a new friend."

Antonio and Bella blushed and tried to protest that they weren't together, but they went completely ignored.

"Besides," Feliciano continued, "it makes sense that our brothers are friends just like we're friends, right, Ludwig? And that we all get to live together! Now we're like a family!"

"That's right! A big happy family!" said Gilbert, wrapping his arm around an utterly mortified Lovino. Oh, he had _known_ it would get worse, but not to this extent.

"Lovino, can I talk to you?" Bella asked. "I'm a little worried about you..."

"Oh, me too!" said Feliciano. "Lovino, I really want to ask you something."

Oh, to hell with it. He had had enough; he couldn't take it any more. Lovino stood abruptly from his seat.

"Sorry, but I'm really tired. I'm going to bed and I don't want to be disturbed," he announced in his coldest tone of voice and headed straight to his bedroom, where he locked himself up and planned to spend the rest of the night trying to pretend this day had never happened.

Only five minutes later, he heard heavy footsteps approaching and stopping right before his door. There was a rapid series of small thuds. A chair had been put on the floor and someone had sat on it, so that it would be impossible for Lovino to open the door without disturbing whoever was sitting in that chair. Raspy cackling was heard from the other side of the door.

"You can't hide forever, Feliciano's brother. And trust me, I learnt my lesson today. You won't escape from me so easily a second time."


	13. Mirage

**A/N**: Not much Gilbert in this chapter, I'm afraid. Still, I'm very glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I thank all those who kindly reviewed: **anon**, **SanguisRubeus**, **foxyaoi123**, **Linda**, **VampireNaomi**, **somethingsomeonesaid**, and **Rinkuu**. You have no idea how happy your reviews made me! I hope you'll continue to enjoy this story.

* * *

– **CHAPTER 13 –**

_**Mirage**_

Apparently, Count Russo's shell-shocked condition had only been a phase. Caterina had expected that much. What she hadn't expected, however, was that that phase would turn out to be the calm before the storm. She had thought that her father had finally started opening up again and getting over his grief, but things only seemed to have got worse. The count had got more and more agitated, snapping at the most unexpected times over any little thing. He had always been a calm man who rarely lost his temper, and even then, he wouldn't usually have raised his voice or got violent.

It was different now. Sometimes he was angry in a cold, calm way, but sometimes he would shout at the top of his lungs and break things. He never hit anyone in the household, but it was a frightening sight, and even Caterina had started avoiding him, praying to God that this was just yet another phase that would soon pass. Thankfully, this wasn't a daily occurrence. In fact, he was almost normal most of the time.

This was one of those bad days, though. He was yelling again now. Caterina stayed in her bedroom, reading, desperately trying to ignore what was going on outside. Fear gripped her heart, and just knowing that her father had snapped again made her stomach twist, giving her a sick feeling. _It'll be over soon, it'll over soon_, she kept telling herself as she struggled to focus on her reading. She had already read the same line five times.

However, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore it. Even though her door was fully closed, she could still hear her father's voice, as well as the voice of the poor butler, the most common victim to the count's volatile mood. The butler's voice was frantic, growing more and more panicked, and Caterina flinched every time she heard a crash. She could only catch a few disconnected words and had no idea what her father was angry about this time.

Maybe she shouldn't be here, trying and failing to pretend everything was fine. Maybe she should go down there and do something about it. Maybe she could talk some reason into her father's head and stop him from frightening the poor butler to death.

Wiping the tears streaking her face, she set her book aside and stood up, just barely managing to keep herself on her feet due to how badly her legs – her whole body – trembled. Her resolve almost crumbled as soon as she opened the door and her father's angry yells became even louder. Even though they muffled any noise she might have made, she still did her best to be as quiet as possible, carefully measuring her steps as if she were breaking into someone's house.

As she made her way downstairs, the yelling became louder and louder, not necessarily because she was coming closer, but because Count Russo was getting more and more agitated. He ranted and raved in a slightly slurred voice. He must be drunk again, Caterina guessed. His mood swings tended to get worse when he drank.

They were in the main sitting room, the door slightly ajar. Hesitantly, Caterina opened it a little more, only enough to peek into the room while still keeping herself well out of sight. The young butler had his back to her, looking tense, his whole body trembling as badly as Caterina's as he begged his master to calm down. Count Russo faced him and Caterina, though he never saw her.

"This is your fault!" the count was saying, pointing an accusing finger at the butler. "He should have been caught a long time ago! I gave you explicit instructions! For God's sake, Terraverde is only a few hours from here! This was supposed to be a very simple task!"

"Y-yes, I know, my lord, but—"

"This is your fault!" the count repeated. "I trusted you with this very simple task and yet you failed me. No one can be that incompetent, Torri! No one! Especially not you!"

"My lord, please—"

"I can only assume that you failed on purpose!"

"I told you, my lord, I would never—"

"You've always had a soft heart," said Count Russo, suddenly very quiet and hissing his words. "You feel sorry for the little bastard, don't you?" And all of a sudden, the count's expression transformed. He was still tense, but his lips curled and froze into a twisted smile that sent chills down Caterina's spine, and the look in his eyes... it was suddenly very intense, yet strangely absent, as if Russo weren't quite there any more. "Yes, that's it. After all, you wouldn't hurt a fly," continued the count, now in a strangely quiet, almost amicable voice. "Maybe I should have expected you to feel sorry for him, but I thought loyalty for the family you serve would outweigh your weakness."

The butler retreated as his master began to approach him in slow steps. However, he – just like Caterina – caught a change in the count's eyes, something in turmoil that ached to be released in an explosion, like a scream that was just barely being held back. It only lasted for a blink, but it was a clear warning and made the butler freeze in his tracks.

"Or maybe," Russo went on, "maybe you're actually working for the enemy. That would also explain why I've been losing so many of my men while the enemy has barely had any losses. Is that it, my dear Torri? Have you double-crossed me?"

"M-my lord, I can assure you, I-I've always been loyal to this family—"

"Ah, Torri," Russo laughed weakly and raised a hand. The butler flinched, but all his master did was pat him on the head, as if he were a little child. "After all these years... and I thought I'd been a good master to you. You were always my right-hand man and I always thought I could trust you of all people. Why do you disappoint me so, Torri? Why do you want to leave me like everyone else?"

The hand that Russo had been using to pet him suddenly clutched the butler's hair on the back of his head and shoved his face against a small table next to them, right into the vase that had been on top of it. It was all so sudden that Caterina didn't have time to avert her gaze or brace herself for the sight of the poor butler's face breaking the vase and getting sliced by the shards. She muffled a gasp and continued to watch, petrified, as her father grabbed one foot from the also broken table and proceeded to beat his servant with it.

"You can't leave me! I won't let anyone leave me! Never, ever again!" said Russo, and although he was still clearly angry, he smiled. A strained, wide smile, which only widened even more when the desperate butler began to scream and apologise. "Stupid, misguided child. I'll make you never want to leave my side again." And rather than relent at his servant's pained pleas and apologies, Russo only hit him harder and harder, until he himself was breathing harshly from exertion.

Caterina could only stare in horror, barely even able to breathe. What really frightened, above anything else, was the look in her father's eyes. They were too wide and glazed over, raw with desperation and fury, and utterly devoid of reason. That wasn't her father at all. He was completely out of his mind. At this rate, he was going to kill the young man!

She had come down here to intervene if things became serious, and this definitely was such a case, yet she dared not make her presence known. What could she do? She was weak in both will and body, and Count Russo might even turn against her, as well. Previously, it had been unthinkable that he would ever hurt anyone like this. Not her sweet, kind father. And yet, he was so far gone now that he had become this violent, so Caterina wouldn't put it past him that he would attack his own daughter. For all she knew, he wouldn't even recognise her until it was too late.

His smile had contorted into a pained grimace now, as if he were the one being beaten to death. Yet he kept hitting his servant mercilessly. Tears blurred Caterina's vision as she finally managed to move, not forward and into the room, but backwards, away from that display of insanity. She couldn't stay here. She had to get away. She was no longer safe in her own house.

Once she had retreated, slowly and quietly, from the sitting room, she sprinted out of the house, only grabbing a cloak on the way out. Once outside, she finally let out the sobs she had been holding back. She kept running, even though she had no idea where she was going or whether it was safe.

"I'm sorry, Father," she whispered between sobs. "I know I promised I would never leave you, but I can't go on like this any longer. I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'll get help... I'm sorry..."

oOo

It should have been a pleasant morning. The sky was clear and a bright blue, the air was fresh and slowly warming in the gentle light of the rising sun, and the birds were happily chirping outside. Under normal circumstances, even Lovino's mood would have improved.

However, when he couldn't leave him room through the door and loud snores could be heard from the other side, the beauty of this morning failed to impress him. This might have worked in his favour, if only he could have left through the window. He would have gone to the opera house without anyone following him. Sure, he would have been without his bodyguard, but what difference did it make? His so-called bodyguard had let him leave the tavern all on his own and hadn't followed him for hours, and now he was sleeping instead of keeping watch. What a lousy excuse for a bodyguard. Then again, he wasn't a bodyguard, was he? Gilbert was only following him around to make sure he wouldn't try to escape from his debt.

At any rate, he couldn't climb out the window. His room was too high up, and Lovino would rather not fall and break all the bones in his body. If he had wanted to kill himself – which he didn't – there were better ways to go about it. Therefore, there was only one thing he could do.

"Wake up, you fucker!" he yelled, with a hard kick at the door. His toes hurt a little from the impact, but the whiny groan he got from the other side of the door made up for it. "I have work to do! I'm going to be late because of you!" Not that Lovino had ever cared about being late, but Gilbert didn't need to know that.

There was some some grumbling and swearing, then all was silent. Lovino opened the door and glared down at Gilbert, who was still sprawled in a big chair in front of his door, completely blocking it. Lovino tried to shove him out of the way with his bare hands, but Gilbert didn't budge at all. He then tried kicking the chair again, punching him, and yelling some more. It didn't work. Fuming, Lovino grabbed the wash basin in his room and doused the water on Gilbert.

"Aw, shit!" Gilbert gasped and spluttered as he lost his balance and fell to the floor, finally allowing Lovino to leave his bedroom.

He didn't even bother getting anything to eat before he made his way to the front door. He was sure that Bonnefoy would serve him breakfast again if he asked, so there was no point in lingering in this house any longer than necessary.

"Hey, wait for me!" he heard Gilbert call out behind him as he crossed the hall. His voice was a little muffled, and when Lovino glanced back at him, he saw Gilbert drying his face with a cloak. "Why are you in such a hurry, anyway?" he asked Lovino, now trying to dry his hair. "Really, who the hell would be up at this ungodly hour?"

"As I said, I have work to do, unlike you," said Lovino, with a contemptuous sneer. "I promised Mr. Bonnefoy I'd be there very early in the morning." In reality, he had promised no such thing. He had promised to be there yesterday, yes, and he had been true to his word, but he had never promised to be there _today_. He didn't even know if Bonnefoy was actually expecting him to show up, but that didn't matter. Lovino just wanted to get away. Bonnefoy was a creepy, insufferable bastard, but at least he wouldn't pester Lovino aside from the usual teasing and would hopefully act more seriously when it came down to business. Also, Lovino wanted to leave the house quickly, before Ludwig woke up and saw him. Or Feliciano. Or Bella. Or Antonio.

He opened the front door and found himself face-to-face with a grim-looking Antonio. Speaking of the devil... Lovino yelped in surprise and must have jumped a few feet in the air. Not a very dignified reaction at the sight of one's best friend, but Lovino thought he could be excused this time. Not only had Antonio made a very unexpected appearance, but that serious, dark expression was unusual and disconcerting on such a normally sunny face. Moreover, Lovino had seen Antonio's dark side, something he had been hoping he would never witness again. One couldn't blame Lovino for feeling a little disturbed now.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing up this early, you bastard?" he asked, cowering a little. "And why are you staring at me like that? What the hell is your problem?"

Antonio's expression seemed to soften slightly into one of sadness. "If you'd spent more time with me, you'd know." He glanced at Gilbert and his gaze was dark again, a strange, contradictory mix of freezing cold and burning hot. When he looked back at Lovino, his lips twisted into a distressed smile. "But you seem to have made some new friends lately."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Lovino asked in confusion and annoyance. "Are you still half-asleep or something? You know what, I don't have time to deal with your idiocy. Get out of my way."

"Actually..." said Antonio, purposefully standing in front of Lovino and preventing him from going anywhere, "I want to have a word with you. Please, it's kinda important."

Lovino sighed in exasperation. "Can't it wait?"

"No, Lovino. Now. Please."

"Well, if you insist," Lovino grumbled as if he didn't really care to know what Antonio wanted, even though deep down he was struck by the seriousness in his friend's tone. "But if I get late, it'll be your fault. And that bastard's, too," he added, indicating Gilbert, just because.

"I'm sure Francis will forgive you," said Antonio, sounding as if he were just humouring Lovino. Lovino tried to call him on it and demand to know why Antonio and Bonnefoy were apparently on a first-name basis, but Antonio was too busy addressing Gilbert. "Sorry, Gilbert, but I need to talk to him in private. Don't worry, I'll take good care of him, and this won't take long, anyway."

Gilbert, who had started following them as Antonio led Lovino up the stairs, threw them a wary look and hesitated before he nodded in acquiescence and backed away. Antonio happily thanked him for understanding and continued to lead Lovino into a large corridor, his arm around the younger man's shoulders. Lovino shrugged them off, to which Antonio predictably took no offence.

"Lovino, we've known each other since we were kids," Antonio began, his stressed smile still on his tanned face. "You've always been like a little brother to me, and... well, I think you must also see me as a friend, or else you wouldn't have put up with me all this time. I know I'm not very smart and I can't always guess what you're thinking. But I do my best. I may screw up most of the time, but I try so hard, really! It's just—you're so hard to read, Lovino. But... well... you know you can trust me, right?"

"What, exactly, is your point?" Lovino asked, growing tired of Antonio's babbling.

Antonio sighed. "You've been so distant lately. Even though we live under the same roof, I rarely get to see you any more, and when we do meet, you keep pushing me away. You won't even look at me or talk to me, not even when I ask you simple, innocent questions. At first I thought you were just being your moody self and I left you alone so that I wouldn't anger you even more, but... you're still avoiding me. Are you still upset about what I did in Pontebianco?" Antonio's smile wavered for the first time and he began to look quite agitated. "I've already apologised to you! It was all a misunderstanding, I swear!"

"Shut it." Lovino came to stand before Antonio, halting him, and met his green eyes with a cold stare. "I'm not upset about that, and I'm not avoiding you. I just have a life of my own now, Antonio. Just because we're friends doesn't mean we have to be together all the time! I have other friends besides you, you know."

"Yeah, I noticed. You've been spending an awful lot of time with Gilbert," muttered Antonio, the dark glint passing over his eyes again. "Just because you have new friends doesn't mean you have to forget all about your old friends, you know."

Lovino's cold demeanour was broken for a moment, because he couldn't help but gape at Antonio. What was this? Was Antonio _jealous_? The world suddenly made a little less sense. "Okay, let me make one thing clear," he said after taking a deep, calming breath. "That white freak is not my friend. He's hardly my servant, even. He just decided on his own that he was going to live here because he wants to make my life a living hell. The poor bastard, that's all the amusement he can get in his fucked up life."

"You should have told me that Gilbert was bothering you," said Antonio, now with that serious frown that he used to wear when scolding Lovino for picking people's pockets. "He's a nice guy to have as a drinking buddy, but he's a troublemaker. Seeing you two together gives me a bad feeling."

"I won't get into trouble because of him. I know better. I'm a grown man now; I can take care of myself."

Antonio made a funny face, as if he very much doubted the truth of Lovino's statement and dearly wanted to protest. Lovino tensed, ready to defend himself, but Antonio managed to hold his tongue and just smiled and nodded.

"Okay, Lovino, you know what? Let's talk about Gilbert some other time, okay? If you say you've forgiven me for that thing in Pontebianco, I believe you. If you do have some kind of grudge against me, I'll patiently wait until you're ready to talk about it like an adult. And if you need my help, you know you can always count on me."

"Good! I'm so glad we had this enlightening, heart-warming chat," Lovino said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now, if you excuse me—"

"Not so fast." Without any effort, Antonio grasped Lovino's forearm, which suddenly felt very thin and frail in Antonio's strong hand, preventing him from leaving. The grip on his arm was firm, but not painful. "There's something I need to show you before you go."

Lovino glared at him warily. Antonio only gave him a reassuring smile, as if back to his usual, laid-back self.

"It won't take long," he insisted, gently pulling Lovino's arm.

With a heavy sigh, Lovino gave in. Maybe Antonio would leave him alone after this. On the other hand, the longer this took, the longer he would be without Gilbert breathing down his neck. That had to count for something in Lovino's favour.

"It's okay if you want to avoid me," said Antonio. "This isn't the first time, after all. I'm used to your cold attitude."

"I thought we'd agreed this conversation was over," said Lovino through gritted teeth.

"But Bella isn't used to it. You were always so nice to her, and now you're avoiding her, too, for no reason. She's been trying to talk to you about something important, but you won't let her! That's why I have no choice but to do this."

Lovino began to ask what Antonio meant, but they had just arrived at the door of a small sitting room, where Bella stood as if waiting for them, and the next thing he knew, he was shoved inside the room and the door shut close behind him with a firm click. Lovino whirled around and tried to open it, to no avail.

"What the fuck? Antonio, open this door!" he yelled, still twisting the door handle even though he knew it was useless. "What the hell do you think you're doing, locking us up here? If this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny! Jerkass!"

"Lovino, stop," said Bella softly. "I'm the one who asked him to do that."

At those words, Lovino stopped cold and turned to look at her in disbelief.

"It was the only way I could think of to talk to you," she explained, with a shrug and a smile that was only slightly apologetic. "Since you've been avoiding me..."

Lovino breathed in and out very slowly. When Antonio had accused him of the same thing, Lovino hadn't felt guilty, but Bella was a different story. Yes, he had been avoiding them, for several reasons. He'd been trying to protect them, to keep them from knowing the trouble he was in, not to mention that he was a little hurt that the couple only seemed to have eyes for each other now, making him feel like a third wheel... In Lovino's mind, those were completely justified reasons.

But then, there was yet another, particular reason for him to avoid Bella. Something that had started even before he had learnt of his debt. He hadn't forgotten what had happened in Pontebianco. He had _tried_ to forget, and he had mostly succeeded to push it to the back of his mind. With all the other, life-threatening problems he'd been dealing with, it wasn't that hard to avoid thinking about something he had never taken seriously to begin with.

Looking at the matter objectively, there was no reason to think about it any more; Bella and Antonio seemed to be getting along so well. Still, it was awkward. Bella had always had that effect on him, actually. Lovino couldn't put his finger on it, but somehow, he didn't feel as at ease in her presence as when he was with any other girl.

"I wanted to apologise for what I did in Pontebianco," she said, cutting into his thoughts.

Lovino shook his head. "You don't have to say that again. I know it was all a misunderstanding. We've been through his several times..."

"No, that's not what I meant." She smiled at him, and although this was a far from unusual occurrence – for Bella smiled as often as Antonio, which was almost all the time – it felt different this time. It wasn't the dreamy smile she'd used to give him not long ago, nor was it the cat-like smile she'd been prone to flashing especially in her younger days or even the polite smile reserved for her elders. "I know you must think I'm just a silly girl with a crush," she began. "Unaware of the dangers and reckless. That I always act without thinking. Actually, Lovino, I do think, all the time. I _am_ aware of the dangers. But, you see, I'm not afraid of them. I may be just a girl, kinda weak and not exceptionally smart, but I do my best to help when I think it's necessary – when someone I care about needs my help."

Lovino wasn't sure he understood. He was long past trying to understand why she was telling him all this; he just could not quite comprehend how someone who claimed to be aware of the dangers and think about the consequences could act like Bella and dive right into the hands of death in order to protect someone else. It was completely stupid and harebrained, in his opinion, and yet...

And yet, it made him feel ashamed of himself. He didn't think he could ever be that selfless. Certainly not without much hesitation and self-doubt. Was he supposed to? If he couldn't be like Bella, did that make him a horrible person? And he had to admit that Bella was very brave, to be so willing to sacrifice herself to help the people she cared about. She wasn't a strong woman, physically speaking, but she had a very strong will and bravery, something that Lovino himself lacked. To think that even this petite girl was stronger than him in any way...

"Still," she continued, lowering her head as if she were also ashamed, "there are times when even the best of us lose control. Sometimes, I do act on impulse and make stupid mistakes. I guess I am a silly girl, after all. I'm sorry, Lovino. I-I shouldn't have kissed you or told you any of those things. You'd just woken up from a terrible nightmare, you were sick and confused... It was very wrong of me. I-I guess I got so scared that I wasn't thinking straight. I'm really sorry."

Oh, God, she was talking about _that_. That so-called love confession. He hadn't known what to make of it at the time, and he still didn't.

"Back then, you wouldn't even believe me," Bella went on, the rare distress in her voice making it sound foreign to his ears. "I could see it in your eyes. You didn't think I really loved you, did you? Well, you're wrong. You can take my word for it now that we're both safe and sound and I've had so much time to reconsider my words. It's true, Lovino. I love you. I love you very much."

For a moment his heart seemed to stop, and then it began to beat twice as hard as before, making his blood rush to his face. He really hadn't quite believed her back then, but now, after everything she had done for him, after she had risked her own life to help him, after she had become truly familiar with his character and flaws, she still claimed to love him with such certainty and earnest. He found it hard to doubt her again. He tried to, because it was too good to be true and he didn't want to get his hopes up, but he could see now this wasn't just a deluded girl with a silly crush. It looked like she really loved him, after all.

He was almost overwhelmed by the fluttering, warm feeling that threatened to burst in his chest. It was a great, unfamiliar feeling. A pretty girl who actually loved him despite all his flaws... Lovino now saw her from a whole new point of view. He found he could no longer see her as a big sister. She was a woman in love with him. A very attractive woman, at that. Very loyal and sweet, too. Lovino had the sudden urge to hold her in his arms and feel the warmth of her slender body against his, but he held back for now. It wouldn't do to be hasty.

"I-I'm the one who should apologise to you," he stammered, finding it hard to speak when his throat felt like it was closing up. "Even though your timing was kind of bad, I shouldn't have been that cold to you. I-I do believe you. I-I-I—" He wanted to say, _I love you, too_, but the words got stuck and wouldn't come out. He took a step forwards, intent on expressing himself with actions instead of words and hold her close, maybe even kiss her if she let him.

A small part of him reminded him that this was wrong, that one of the reasons why he had rejected her the first time was because she was supposed to be with Antonio. _Screw Antonio!_ he told himself angrily. If Bella and Antonio were actually happy together, she wouldn't have come back to Lovino to reaffirm her feelings for him. Besides, Antonio was an easygoing, strong man who could easily find himself another girl. Lovino had no such luxury. He was sure he would never find anyone as accepting as Bella. She knew he was loud, rude, selfish, whiny, cowardly, dishonest, useless, and she didn't care. She knew he suffered from the falling sickness, and she didn't care. She knew he was poor and living off his brother, and she didn't care. What were the chances he would ever find another girl like her? No, he just couldn't afford to miss this precious opportunity.

"But there's something I need to tell you," Bella said, startling Lovino out of his dreamland. "After you told me you didn't feel the same way about me... I slowly came to the realisation that... well... I don't really feel that way, either. I've known you since we were kids. I remember when you and Antonio helped me with some bullies... and when you came to talk and play with me, even though I was a girl, and submitted to the indignity of playing house with me." She giggled at the memories. "Antonio played as the father, I was the mother, and you were our son, remember? You were so cute." She laughed again and looked up at Lovino with something like melancholy in her eyes. "I guess I was a little impressed by how much you'd grown up, but after a while, I began to see you more like my little brother again. The cute, grumpy boy that Antonio and I need to protect and love."

Lovino's heart stopped again, this time filling him with cold. What had she just said...?

"That's why I'm sorry I kissed you and said those things. It was wrong... misleading... You were right; it really was a silly crush." Bella laughed and nudged him playfully. "Now I'm glad to know you don't feel that way about me, or else telling you all this would have been _really_ awkward, huh?"

Lovino made an odd noise that was supposed to be a flippant laugh in agreement with her, but came out sounding more like a dying animal's feeble cry. Bella miraculously didn't seem to notice anything was amiss, though, which was why Lovino bothered to put some effort into controlling his breathing and keeping his eyes from watering too much. When his hands continued to shake, he hid them behind his back. Not a minute ago, he had been the happiest he'd ever been in his life; now he felt as though Bella had clawed his heart out of his chest with her bare hands and trampled on it, then left it to rot in a mud pool. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't... believe this. This just couldn't be happening. It was too much. Maybe if he pretended this was happening to someone else, it would hurt less?

"Well, that's all I had to say," said Bella. "I guess this is farewell, then."

"F-farewell?" he managed to whisper. "What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"Home," she said with a casual shrug, as if the answer were obvious. "I was happy to spend a few days here in Terraverde again and celebrate your birthday, but I have to go back to Monterosso now. It's my home, and I have to make sure my grandma is okay. Don't worry, I'll write you letters every day, and I'll come to visit you again as soon as I can. Maybe on Christmas." She pulled him into a hug and kissed him on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, and stay out of trouble, okay?" She pulled away and skipped over to the door, which she knocked before she shouted, "Antonio, I'm ready to go! You can open the door now!"

Lovino didn't move a muscle. His back was facing the door, so he didn't even see her leave with Antonio. After some minutes, his body found enough strength to move to the window, from which he could watch Bella mount her horse, wave goodbye to Antonio and Feliciano, and leave on her own. He didn't move again afterwards, though. His mind was too numb with shock and misery for him to do anything.

Hours later, he found himself back at the tavern, sitting next to Gilbert and surrounded by empty cups. He might or might not have cried on Gilbert's shoulder at some point, but if such a thing had actually happened, Lovino was pretty sure he had made up for it by throwing up on Gilbert's shoes. Francis Bonnefoy joined them at some point, and then came Antonio, and those three got into a drunk discussion about the difference between love and sex. Lovino tried to ignore them and forget this day had ever happened.

oOo

Russo groaned, in the grip of a killer headache. That was very usual, these days. He was sprawled somewhere, probably on the couch. Nothing out of ordinary there, either. He also felt very cold. Again, nothing unusual. His throat felt scratchy and sore, and he was thirsty.

He needed a drink.

"Torri..." he tried to call out, but his voice came out hoarse and pathetic. If his loyal Torri was in the same room, however, he would surely hear him nevertheless. Torri was that solicitous and efficient.

He had yet to open his eyes, but when Torri's worried voice didn't reach his ears, Russo realised that he wasn't in this room. Normally, he would have left it at that and attempted to go back to sleep, since he was too tired to raise his voice.

But he _really_ wanted a drink.

He cleared his throat and tried calling Torri again, this time loud enough. It made his head ring, but he would soon cure it with a drink, so it was all right. He lay quietly, breathing and waiting.

Torri still failed to answer him. That was odd. Torri never failed to answer when Russo called, nor did he ever take this long, no matter what he happened to be doing at the moment. And he would never leave the house without permission.

His eyes hurt when he finally opened them, and it took them a while to focus. Russo began to sit up on the couch and tried to look around.

"Torri?"

He got up and stumbled, paying no mind to the shattered wood and porcelain on the floor or to the red stains.

"Torri? Torri!" He was aware of how supplicant he sounded, how weak and childish, but he didn't care. He just didn't want to be alone. "Caterina! Caterina, come here! I need you! Caterina!" he shouted as he hurried to his daughter's room. She wasn't there.

He continued to look for them – for anyone, really – in this huge, cold house, but his search proved fruitless. He was alone. He refused to admit they had left him, though. Not his loyal Torri, or his sweet daughter. Both had promised not to leave him. They would never break such a promise. They couldn't!

His heart pounding in his chest, making his headache even worse, Russo leant on the nearest windowsill to steady himself and took deep breaths. There was no reason to panic. Neither Torri nor Caterina could have left. Besides, there were the other servants. There were many people living in this house, but since it was a very big house, it was sometimes difficult to find people right away and the place looked deserted. That didn't mean it was actually deserted. It didn't mean he was all alone. He wasn't. They had promised him. He would never be alone. He had nothing to worry about. He just had to keep looking.

From the window, he happened to catch sight of a figure walking from the gates over to the front door. Ah, at last, someone had showed up! It wasn't Torri or Caterina, but still a familiar face, one of his servants. Russo laughed in relief and quickly made his way to the hall to meet the newcomer.

"Eduardo!" he called, and the young man in question immediately froze. In his hands, he clutched a bag full of... something. Russo wasn't really certain. He could only assume it was supplies of some sort. Not that it mattered.

"M-my lord," replied the servant reverently, even though he was shaking so much that he was stammering. The poor young man must be freezing! Russo would normally offer him a drink to warm him up, but he had more important things to worry about right now.

"Where's Torri?" he asked eagerly. Now that Eduardo had recovered from the surprise of seeing his master, his face drained of all emotion, as usual, even though he was still shaking.

"He is... unavailable at the moment, sir. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"But he's here, right? He hasn't left me?"

Eduardo blinked slowly. "No, he hasn't left you at all, my lord. In fact, I brought these for him," he said, indicating the bag in his hands.

Russo breathed a sigh of relief. His loyal Torri was still here, after all. Maybe he was just feeling ill or something, and the bag that Eduardo had brought was probably medicine. Russo would worry about that later, though. At least Torri was still here.

"What about Caterina? I can't find her anywhere, and she doesn't usually leave the house."

Eduardo narrowed his eyes and took his time to answer, as if he were working something out or weighing his words. "I... well, she... er... I'm not sure I should—"

"Eduardo. I'm your master, and if you know where Caterina is, you have to tell me," said Russo, chastising his young servant gently. He didn't like being so strict with his staff, but sometimes it was necessary. They were young and still had much to learn. He offered Eduardo an encouraging smile.

Eduardo swallowed. "W-well, sir, to be honest, I don't know where she is, exactly. I saw her leave the house in a hurry hours ago, but I have no idea where she was going."

Russo's heart clenched, robbing him of his breath for a moment. Without saying anything else to Eduardo, he hurried out of the house in panic. Caterina... She couldn't possibly have run away, right? She was a good girl and she had promised not to leave him, so why would she run away? It was an absurd idea! She wouldn't—she couldn't! Surely she had simply gone out for some fresh air! To mingle with the people, even though she had never showed any inclination to do so before.

But why would she be in a hurry, then?

He froze in his tracks when he found her, right there in the village, laughing and waving to someone she had seen some distance away. Once again, Russo was giddy from relief. He had worried for nothing, after all. He was so silly. Why, he had even come all the way here on foot, something he had realised just now.

He took a moment to catch his breath and stumbled over to his daughter.

"There you are!" he said, taking a hold of her arm. She gasped in surprise and turned to look at him with wide eyes. Russo was used to this reaction; he had been told that he moved very quietly and seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He would actually sneak up on people for fun sometimes. "Don't do that again. You gave me quite a scare," he told her in a good-natured singsong tone.

However, she had become very pale and was still staring at him as if he were a ghost. "Wh-what—what do you want from me?"

"This isn't the place to talk. The commoners are watching," he said, tugging at her arm. "Come with me."

If anything, she looked even more frightened. She began to shake and her eyes welled up with tears. "N-no! Please, don't hurt me!"

Russo gave her a gentle, reassuring smile. Even after all these years, his daughter was still a crybaby. She must know that she had done wrong by leaving the house without permission and giving her father a scare; she must be thinking that he was going to punish her.

"Don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you. I could never hurt my precious daughter."

His daughter was silent for a moment, her breathing laboured.

"Daughter?" she whispered, as if confused.

Russo giggled. His daughter was as silly as her old man.

"That's right," he said, caressing her face. "I would never hurt my own family. Not even Natalia, despite her... problems, and certainly not you, my sweet Caterina. You were always such a good girl..."

Again, she was silent for a moment. "A-are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"I am now that I've found you." He tugged at her arm again. "Come on, let's go home."

"B-but—"

"Come on, Caterina! Be a good girl. I still have to talk to Torri."

She protested a little more, but he paid no mind to her, basking in the happy knowledge that he wasn't alone, after all. Eventually, his daughter settled down and they both walked home in companionable silence.


	14. The Impostors

**A/N**: Thank you for the reviews, **VampireNaomi**, **foxyaoi123**, **SoDesuKa**, **PrettyPunch**, and **Linda**!

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– **CHAPTER 14 –**

_**The Impostors**_

Singing had always been one of Lovino's pleasures. Even though he knew that his brother must be much better at it, Lovino still loved singing and found it much easier than painting, since it didn't require any manual dexterity whatsoever. It was one of the very few things he thought he could do well, and even other people seemed to recognise that fact. He preferred to sing by himself, though. When he closed his eyes to the harsh outside world and allowed himself to get lost in a musical world of his own creation, it was pure bliss. If he had to sing in front of someone, he had to block them from his sight and mind in order to sing as well as if he were alone.

But of course, trust fate to ruin even this small pleasure in his life. Singing opera was _hard_, even harder than Lovino had imagined. Bonnefoy and his fellow singers kept interrupting him to point out his mistakes. They were never rude about it, but Lovino could never handle criticism well, and it was making him feel more and more nervous and self-conscious, which led him to make even more mistakes and get even more criticisms, and so on and so forth.

Now he was singing with his eyes open, knowing that it was pointless to close them if they were going to interrupt him again any moment now. He could see Bonnefoy's unreadable face and the displeased frowns on his colleagues' faces, and in an inconspicuous corner, half-concealed by shadows, Gilbert watched him with an expression that alternated between boredom and mockery. Already red in the face from embarrassment and anger, Lovino sang with all his might, intent on impressing at least one person in this room.

"You're singing too loudly," said Bonnefoy once Lovino reached the last note. "Just because this is an opera doesn't mean you have to scream your lungs out. Also, you're singing a little too fast. It makes your singing sound flat and ungraceful."

By now, all the blood in Lovino's body must have moved to his face, judging by the way it burned.

"Y-you—you just told me I wasn't singing loudly enough, dammit!"

"Yes, but you didn't have to go overboard. Let's try again."

Lovino made a face at the prospect of prolonging this torture. "Can I take a break? My throat hurts."

"Your throat hurts because you've been singing too loudly. It'll get better with practice."

"Mr. Bonnefoy," interjected the bass, a tall, strong-built man who had been among the most displeased with Lovino's casting. "I'm sorry, but are you sure it was wise to cast a novice for the main role? And a tenor, at that? It just isn't right!"

"With all due respect, Mr. Battisti, I'm the director and owner of this opera house, so _I_ decide what is right," replied Bonnefoy smoothly. "Mr. Vargas, you've had your break, now start singing again. Don't worry; you're doing great."

"No, I'm not! You keep saying that, but it's not true!" Lovino snapped, yelling despite the fact that it only made his throat hurt even more. "I suck! Even that moron over there can see that! You should just admit that this was a fucking horrible idea! You know what? I quit!"

"All right, if you insist, you can have the rest of the day off, but don't forget to come back for the rehearsal tomorrow," Bonnefoy called out in a bored tone even as Lovino stormed out of the room. He must be really thick, Lovino thought. Really, what part of "I quit" was so difficult to understand?

It really shouldn't have come as a surprise that he had failed again. For a while, he had really believed he could do at least one thing right. He should have known better. Everything he did was a failure. Even when it was something he thought he could do reasonably well, he still found a way to screw up. Why could he never do anything right? Even when he tried so hard—

A mocking laugh broke him out his thoughts, making him redden even more in anger.

"Oh, Feliciano's brother, you look so cute and funny when you throw a hissy fit like that!" Gilbert jeered.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole! And stop calling me 'Feliciano's brother'!"

"But you _are_ Feliciano's brother!"

"I also have a name, you know!" yelled Lovino, speeding up his pace in order to get away from the relentless nuisance.

"You shouldn't shout like that, Feliciano's brother; it'll hurt your poor, abused throat!" Gilbert cackled.

"Then leave me the fuck alone, damn you!"

"But I want you to throw another hissy fit! It's so much more fun to watch than your opera!"

He pretty much ran all the way, and he was dismayed that Gilbert had no trouble keeping up at all. If anything, Gilbert looked like he was having a lot of fun. Lovino was usually good at running away and losing bullies, but this was a resilient one.

He headed straight home, hoping that maybe Antonio would be able to distract Gilbert, as they seemed to get along pretty well when they interacted – provided, of course, that Gilbert wasn't too close to Lovino. However, the first face he met as soon as he opened the door was Ludwig's. He had that perpetually frowning, irritated face and that intimidating aura, now fully focused on Lovino, as usual. It was all Lovino could do to stop himself from shrieking like a girl and hiding behind Gilbert, who was definitely the lesser of two evils – at least he was being paid to make sure that Lovino wouldn't be killed.

"What on Earth are you two doing?" rumbled Ludwig. Lovino was anxious to get in and retreat to his bedroom, but Ludwig was blocking the entrance.

"G-g-get the hell out of my way, you fucking musclehead!" Lovino demanded with all the courage he was able to find in himself as he tried to shove Ludwig, who didn't budge at all.

Ludwig sighed. "Gilbert, are you harassing the master's brother again? Just leave him alone and go do something worthwhile for once!"

Lovino took to punching Ludwig's broad chest repeatedly with clenched fists. "Move, shithead! This is _my_ house!"

Ludwig sighed again, this time sounding even more exasperated, and finally had the grace to move to let Lovino in. "Technically, it's your brother's house," he muttered.

Lovino bristled and whirled around on him, too angry to even say anything. He had never felt this much hatred towards a single person. Even the hatred he felt for the Russos, the Gianturcos, Gilbert, Bonnefoy, and Edelstein, all put together, did not compare to the hatred he felt towards Ludwig. Lovino had never liked him to begin with, never trusted him in the least, and then he had resented him for being so close to Feliciano, but lately, Ludwig had started treating him like a common thief that was tricking poor, naïve Feliciano into giving him food and shelter, as if Lovino had no right to be here.

He wouldn't let this humiliation go on any longer. He would make Ludwig pay.

Tearing his hateful glare off Ludwig, Lovino forced himself to calm down and slowly walked away, knowing that Gilbert would follow him. He heard Ludwig let out yet another exasperated sigh and say, "Try not to break anything, please. We just finished cleaning the house." Lovino had no idea if the words were directed at Gilbert or Lovino himself – possibly at both – but he almost snapped again at the sound of that voice.

"Gilbert," he called in a voice that was almost a snarl as soon as Ludwig left them alone. "You're really pissing me off, following me around."

"Yeah, well, orders are orders," said Gilbert, with a shrug. "You think I don't have anything more fun to do than follow you around all day? I mean, it _is_ pretty funny to watch you get all riled up, but it kind of gets old after a while."

"You know, you don't _have_ to stand right next to me all the fucking time, or talk to me. You can watch me from a distance. Don't you _love_ being by yourself?"

"Sure I do! But—"

"How am I supposed to hit on girls with a freak like you breathing down my neck and scaring off the poor things?" Lovino complained, gesturing wildly to convey his annoyance. "Tell you what? Let's make a deal! I'll even pay you for it, if you want."

"Hey, man, if you're trying to bribe me to get rid of me—"

"No, nothing like that! I just want you to keep a certain distance from me. Just for one day. Watch me from a distance and don't talk to me. Just so I can flirt in peace. Okay? Can you do that one simple thing? Just for one day?"

Gilbert seemed to consider it for a moment. "Well, okay, I guess... But no tricks! If you try anything funny again—"

"No tricks, I promise! I'll even pay you in advance." Lovino drew the coin purse he had stolen from Gilbert some time ago and gave it to him. Gilbert didn't recognise it, fortunately.

"Lovino!" he heard his brother's airy voice call in surprise. Feliciano was coming down the stairs, grinning at them. "I thought you'd only be back in the evening! Is everything all right?"

"Feliciano!" Lovino exclaimed and hurried over to his brother to steer him back upstairs. "Come with me. I need to have a word with you in private."

As promised, Gilbert followed him at a greater distance than usual.

"What? What do you want to talk about with me?" asked Feliciano, very confused and a little apprehensive.

"Oh, it's nothing serious," Lovino reassured him. "It's just that I'm going out to hit on some pretty girls and I need some nice clothes. Do you have any I can borrow?"

"Oh, sure, no problem!"

They soon arrived at Feliciano's bedroom and Lovino was quick to close the door while Feliciano rambled on about this nice set of clothes he often wore to flirt.

"Okay, shut up about the clothes now," Lovino hissed in Feliciano's ear. "Actually, I'm in a... mischievous mood today."

"Oh?" Feliciano gave him a wary, uncertain grin. Lovino returned it with a sly smile.

"Yeah. Remember when we were little and pretended to be each other to mess with people's heads?"

"Oh, yeah!" Feliciano laughed and nodded. "It was really fun! No one could tell us apart at all!"

"Let's do it again."

"What, now?"

"Yes, now! C'mon, it'll be fun! Just like the good old times!"

"Well..." Feliciano thought about it for a while and then started giggling. "Okay. I don't know if I can still pull it off, but I can try. It'd be so funny if everyone got confused again!"

"Exactly! Now take off your clothes and give them to me," Lovino instructed. "Put some really nice clothes on and go out to flirt with the girls, okay? And don't talk to Gilbert. He and I just had a fight and I'm not talking to him." Rather, he didn't want to risk Gilbert bringing up anything about the Gianturcos to Feliciano.

Lovino put on the same clothes that Feliciano had been wearing and quickly styled his hair just like his brother, parting it in the middle, then helped his brother part his own hair on the left. Their hair colour was slightly different, but that had never been a problem before. The difference in their behaviour alone was more than enough to fool even close friends.

Being near-identical twins, even though they had never been very close, they had perfected the art of imitating each other. Feliciano thought it was fun, while Lovino usually did it because it was the only time when people would be nice to him and praise him just like they praised his brother. He knew the compliments weren't for him, and he knew he was pathetic for it, but it was a nice illusion that he indulged himself with.

He watched as Feliciano's soft features wrinkled into a moody frown, his eyes opening a little and flaring in annoyance and his lips curling into a sneer.

"The fuck are you looking at, dumbass?" he asked in a gruff voice that was a little deeper than usual.

Pleased and rather impressed, Lovino allowed his own frown to melt into a dreamy grin, squinting his eyes a little.

"Those clothes just look so nice on you," he said in a singsong, high-pitched voice.

"Ugh, you're such a fucking idiot. I can't stand looking at your stupid face any longer. I'm going out to look for some pretty faces," said Feliciano, stomping over to the door and slamming it open, only to be met with the sight of Gilbert standing right in front of him. Feliciano rudely shoved him, "Get outta my way, you freak!"

Lovino worried for a moment that Gilbert had been listening against the door and overheard his plan to swap places with Feliciano. However, Gilbert gave him that almost fond smile that he reserved only for Feliciano and said, "Sorry, Feliciano, gotta go and make sure your brother won't do anything stupid. Take care of Ludwig for me, okay?"

Oh, he would take care of Ludwig, all right, Lovino thought as he sang goodbyes to his brother and Gilbert. For the first time in his life, he just couldn't _wait_ to see Ludwig.

oOo

He soon found his prey in the kitchen, bent over one of the counters, his nose nearly touching the surface as he painstakingly rubbed a cloth over it to clean a spot that only he could see. Lovino took a minute to watch him in scornful puzzlement. Ludwig always did this kind of thing, and no one, not even Feliciano, could understand why. The maids were the ones in charge of cleaning the house. That was what they were for. And Lovino had to admit that they did a very good job. And yet, Ludwig always managed to find a missed spot, and instead of calling the maids out on it, he would take his own handkerchief and start cleaning it himself until everything was sparkling clean. What a weird, clean-freak bastard.

"Ludwig!" he finally burst out in the happiest tone he could muster and literally threw himself at Ludwig to hug him from behind. He knew that Ludwig hated surprises as well as physical contact, so he figured that surprise physical contact would make a great start.

As expected, he felt Ludwig tense from exasperation and the effort not to snap.

"Master," was all Ludwig said, and it was obvious that it was all he could do to refrain from yelling. Taking advantage of the fact that Ludwig still wasn't facing him, Lovino allowed himself a triumphant smirk.

"Ludwig, I missed you so much!" said Lovino, nuzzling Ludwig's muscular back, even though he was gagging a little inside. He had to stay in character for now.

"We just saw each other ten minutes ago," Ludwig pointed out.

"Luuudwiiiig," Lovino said in a drawling whine that never failed to grate on Ludwig's nerves – as well as Lovino's – every time Feliciano did it. "I'm bored. What are you doing?"

"Working," was the terse reply.

"But that's boring!"

Instead of replying, Ludwig resumed his attempt to eliminate the imaginary spot on the counter. Lovino fumed at being ignored, but rather than scowl, he imitated his brother's cute pout and did his best to annoy the heck out of Ludwig by poking at him repeatedly and using his most obnoxious whining voice.

"I'm bored! Let's do something fun! Ludwig, are you listening to me? Heeey! Look at me!"

"I'm busy! Can't you wait five minutes?" Ludwig finally half-snapped.

"Fine. I'll wait here until you're done, then."

A few minutes later, when it looked like Ludwig was finally getting satisfied with his work, Lovino quickly went to fetch a bottle of champagne from the cupboard on the other side of the kitchen. On his way back to Ludwig's side, he "accidentally" tripped and sent the bottle flying over the counter. The bottle lightly hit Ludwig's head on the way before crashing on the wall and spilling expensive champagne and glass shards all over the newly clean counter and the floor. The champagne had been a gift from Francis Bonnefoy, so Lovino didn't regret wasting it at all.

"Oops," Lovino giggled and sing-sang, "Sorry."

Rubbing at his head where the bottle had hit him, Ludwig stared in barely contained fury at the mess on the counter he had just worked so hard to clean. His nostrils flared and his teeth made an unpleasant gritting sound against each other, and Ludwig had to take several deep breaths, but he was able to control himself and hold his tongue.

"We could just have one of the maids clean that up, you know," Lovino helpfully pointed out.

"The maids don't do a very good job," Ludwig muttered, still surveying the mess. "I'll do it myself. Just give me another five minutes, sir."

"If you insist, no problem," Lovino replied, and he spent the next five minutes marvelling at how Ludwig lowered himself to this position all on his own. Despite his obsession with cleanness, he had never actually sunk to cleaning the floor with a dirty rag, on his knees, like a lowly servant. Not in front of Lovino, at least. Ludwig was supposed to be Feliciano's bodyguard, though he actually acted more like a butler half the time; either way, he should have been above this kind of job.

Lovino couldn't be happier at this turn of events. This was going even better than he had expected.

When Ludwig was finally done cleaning up the new mess, he was quite red in the face and cringing at the kinks in his shoulders and back. Lovino made it worse by dangling off his shoulders like a lazy human cape.

"Ludwig, watching you work like that made me really tired."

Ludwig said nothing, just gave him a flabbergasted glare that clearly meant, "_I'm_ the one who was working while you just watched and _you're _tired?"

Lovino ignored the glare and tried to look as pitiful as his brother. "I want to sit down in my comfy divan in my study, but it's soooo far away, with all those stairs, and I'm sooo tired. Can you carry me there, Ludwig?"

With a long-suffering sigh, Ludwig lifted him in his arms bridal style, surprisingly gentle despite being a muscular beast. Lovino might have been a little mortified at being carried around like a damsel – and by this bastard of all people – but he was rather enjoying the pained look on Ludwig's reddened face as he went up several flights of stairs carrying Lovino's near-dead weight. He probably felt much more mortified than Lovino.

He wondered how far he could go...

They arrived at Feliciano's study and Ludwig carefully deposited Lovino on the luxurious divan where Feliciano's models usually lay. It _was_ very soft and comfortable; anyone who sat or lay on it was bound to feel like a king. Lovino made a show of sprawling on it like a lazy cat, then let out another deliberately obnoxious whine.

"I don't want to be in this spot. I want to be next to the window, so I can watch the birds flying by. That will give me inspiration for my next painting!"

Ludwig's jaw clenched.

"Is that really necessary, sir?"

"Luuudwiiig..."

Once he was done cringing, Ludwig let out another long-suffering sigh and started pulling the divan – with Lovino still on it – towards the window. Lovino was quiet for a few seconds before he announced that he preferred the previous spot after all, forcing Ludwig to pull the divan all the way back.

"It's very hot," he said, fanning himself with his hand. "Ludwig, can't you do something about it?"

"I can open the window—"

"But the wind could knock over my fresh paintings!"

"I don't think—"

"Luuudwiiig..."

A few minutes later, an increasingly disgruntled Ludwig found himself fanning Lovino with a huge, feathery fan (another, old gift from Bonnefoy).

"I'm hungry."

"We just came from the kitchen..."

"I just got hungry. Can you bring me some grapes? Oh, and some wine, too."

"We don't have any grapes."

Lovino had known that, of course.

"Then go buy some in the market."

"We have other fruits—"

"But I want grapes! Luuudwiiig!"

Fortunately for Ludwig, Lovino didn't order him to feed him the grapes. There was a limit to everything, after all.

Lovino popped a grape into his mouth and sighed contentedly. Life was good (right now), and revenge was sweet.

"Oh, I can already feel the inspiration coming on," he said, grape still in his mouth. "Hey, Ludwig, my feet feel a little sore. Can you massage them for me?"

It looked like Ludwig was finally going to protest, but Lovino did his best to mimic his brother's pathetic, kicked-puppy face. That did the trick.

"I have work to do," was all Ludwig allowed himself to say in his resigned voice.

"You're already doing it," replied Lovino simply. Ludwig frowned, but offered no further comment.

Lovino once again took his time to gaze at his enemy in vindictive pleasure. He would always remember this, the sight of Ludwig's infuriated, humiliated face at his feet, whenever he needed to cheer himself up. _You deserve worse, you bastard, much worse_, he thought venomously. _This is only the beginning. I'll make your life a living hell. I'll make you as miserable and humiliated as you made me, even if it's the last thing I do._

"Is there something on my face, master?" inquired Ludwig upon noticing that he was being stared at.

Fortunately, Lovino had been careful enough to keep his expression a pleasant mask. "No, no, I was just lost in my thoughts."

"If I may be so bold, sir, you seem to be a little more whimsical than usual today..."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Nothing, sir. Never mind."

"You're so funny, Ludwig!" Lovino giggled and relaxed back on the divan. It felt so nice to be the one being pampered like this for once. Of course, he would have preferred a beautiful, gentle, smiling girl for company a thousand times over, but even if this was Ludwig, the man he hated so much, it was still nice to be treated so well.

However, this hadn't been the point of this whole charade, and after a few moments, he was already preparing himself for the next step of his plan. He narrowed his eyes as he studied Ludwig's face, a gesture otherwise suspicious that was luckily disguised by the squinting characteristic of his brother.

"By the way, have you seen my brother today?"

Ludwig visibly tensed even more, if that was even possible, and took a second too long to reply.

"Yes, sir. I saw him approximately an hour ago. He had just come home with Gilbert. I believe they left again shortly afterwards, since it has been very quiet in the house."

"Were you nice to him?"

"Of course, sir."

Lovino fumed inside, struggling not to let his anger show. Fucking liar! He had glared at Lovino, showing open dislike for him, and treated him like a parasite. And he had the gall to lie to his master with such a straight face!

"Are you sure?" he pressed. "No comments that he could take as thinly veiled insults at all? You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Ludwig?"

Ludwig's pale face flushed a light pink and he seemed to have trouble meeting Lovino's gaze.

"If I may be so bold, sir, I really don't mean to insult him. It's not my fault that he's so touchy. I only say the truth. You know that. I would never lie to you, just like I would never lie to him. If he can't handle the truth, that is not my fault, or anyone else's. It's his problem."

Lovino's hands shook with anger and the effort to hold it back, to keep up his innocent façade. Oh, how he would have loved to break this bastard's nose, gouge his eyes out, pull out his teeth and cut off his tongue so that he would never again be able to say any more distorted "truths", rip his muscles off one by one, and set him on fire so that he could die a slow, agony-filled death—

"Is something wrong, my lord?"

"Of course something is wrong, you f—" Lovino paused and took a few ragged breaths. No, this wasn't how he was supposed to act at all. What would Feliciano say in this kind of situation? Something completely idiotic and sappy, most likely.

He was so frustrated that he couldn't just tell him exactly what was on his mind or cause him any bodily harm that his eyes burnt with the threat of tears. Normally, he hated crying, especially in front of someone else, but this time it would work in his advantage.

"I-I mean, I just wish y-you and my brother could g-get along so we could all be a happy f-family, but... it's impossible! You treat him like he has no r-right to be here! You hate him!"

"My lord..." murmured Ludwig, a expression of worry forming on his usually impassive face.

"I know we're best friends, Ludwig, even if you won't accept it because we're also master and servant," continued a miserable-looking Lovino between exaggerated sobs and sniffles. "But Lovino is my brother. He's _family_. The only family I have left, and nothing can beat that, Ludwig, not even you. Blood is thicker than water, after all... If I have to choose between you two... well... I don't like the idea of having to choose, but if you can't get along, you leave me no choice. I just can't bear the thought of living under the same roof as someone who hates my own brother, my twin! Ludwig, if you hate him so much, I think it'd be for the best if you left..."

It was perfect. Humiliate Ludwig, then sack him and make sure he would never even try to contact Feliciano again. He would come up with an explanation for Ludwig's departure later, and also make sure that Feliciano would never try going after his dear friend. He would eventually get over it, Lovino was sure, and hopefully Gilbert would follow after his brother and leave him alone as well.

When no exclamations of surprise or objection were forthcoming, Lovino looked at Ludwig again. Once more, his normally impassive had contorted into a deeply pained expression, as if Lovino had just thrust a dagger right into his heart.

"If that is what you wish, my lord, I will comply. I can leave immediately, if you wish. However," he suddenly looked a little more like his impassive self, "I want you to know that I do not actually hate your brother. I never have. I swear. He's the one who hated me for no reason from the moment he saw me for the first time. I admit that it's true that he tries my patience. I do think he is irritating, selfish, envious, rude, and suspicious. He's a troublemaker, and I am certain that he is up to no good with my brother. But I know he is not a bad person, deep down. In fact, I think he is very... well... very sad. Um... or at least very insecure. And... a little misguided. I don't really understand him; I'm not good at guessing what other people are feeling, as you know... but I think he and I are alike, in a way. He doesn't know how to express his feelings like normal people do. I worry about you – I worry that he might drag you with him and get you into trouble, but... I don't hate him. I... Actually, I can't help but worry about him a little, too. After all, he is your brother." At, Ludwig fell silent, his face now flushed red in apparent embarrassment.

Lovino just stared at him. That had been completely unexpected, and he had no idea what to think for a moment. He had thought that Ludwig hated him. Why else would he glare at him all the time and treat him like crap? And why did he have to make Lovino sound so pathetic even when trying to claim his not-hatred for him?

Coming from Ludwig, it was absurd. Of course Ludwig hadn't meant a single word. He was just grasping for straws, hoping that his master would change his mind and allow him to stay. That was it, obviously, and Lovino cursed himself for believing him even if only for a moment. That was why Ludwig hadn't left yet, but kept staring at him in expectation. That manipulative bastard.

And yet, why couldn't Lovino tell him to leave once and for all? It was on the tip of his tongue, yet he held back when Ludwig's words echoed in his mind. Why did he feel... touched that someone else claimed to worry about him? He knew it wasn't true, so why? Maybe he really was _that_ pathetic...

Shame at his own stupidity helped fuel his resolve. He couldn't back out now, not when he was so close to succeeding! He was just confused because he had been taken by surprise, but if he kicked Ludwig out right now, he wouldn't have to think about it any more and would eventually get over these pathetic feelings. He had to dismiss him right now!

He leapt to his feet, his gaze hardening as he forced all sympathetic thoughts out of his heart.

Before he could get a single syllable out, the door burst open, making both men jump.

"Oh, there you are, idiot."

Lovino paled. It was Feliciano. Still pretending to be him, it seemed. Lovino's first impulse was to shout his brother's name and ask what the hell he was doing here, but fortunately, he gulped those words before they could get out and reveal his true identity.

"Oh. Lovino. Hello," he said in a strained voice, trying to sound at least a little cheerful. "Why are you back so soon? Is something wrong?" He had better have a good excuse, or else...

Feliciano also looked like he was having some trouble keeping the act up. He looked quite pale and he was sweating a little. He almost smiled at Lovino's question, before he reminded himself that he was supposed to look serious.

"N-not that it's any of your, uh, damn business," said Feliciano, stumbling a little over his words, "but I was outside hitting on girls just like you told—I mean, just like I told you I'd do, and then I noticed that there were some creepy, burly men I'd never seen before staring at me everywhere I went. I was a little creeped out, so I came home. Idiot," he added as an afterthought.

If Lovino had got pale before, now he must look close to a living dead, as he felt the blood rapidly drain from his face. Oh, God, the Russos had finally found him. There was no other explanation. He didn't know what was worse; the thought that his innocent brother could have been attacked and even killed by them, without even knowing why, or the thought that Lovino himself could have been and probably would very soon be assaulted by them.

And of course, Feliciano had to go and say such an incriminating thing out loud, right in front of Ludwig. Lovino risked a glance at him. Oh, shit, if Ludwig had been suspicious of him before, now he was certain that Lovino was up to no good. Yes, there it was, that familiar, accusing glare. Then, Ludwig realised that Lovino was also glaring at him and remembered that he had been about to be dismissed.

"Shall I start packing now, my lord?" he asked.

"Packing?" Feliciano echoed, his eyes even more alarmed than they had already been. "Why? Where are you going?" Although the question was addressed to Ludwig, he quickly directed his inquiring gaze to Lovino.

God damn it all! Feliciano really had terrible timing. Now he couldn't kick Ludwig out. Feliciano would drop his act right away and demand to know what was going on, then assure Ludwig that he could stay and scold Lovino for almost dismissing his best friend. He would probably never trust him to switch places again, either.

"No, no, it's all right!" Lovino burst out. "I'm sure you can learn to get along if you give each other a chance!"

Ludwig hesitated, his face unreadable as ever, while Feliciano looked even more confused. Lovino could tell he was one second away from opening his big mouth to ask what was going on again, but Lovino beat him to it and hurried to catch him in a tight – too tight, warning – hug.

"Don't worry, Lovino, you're safe now!" he cooed in his warmest, most reassuring tone. "Now, why don't we have a little chat while Ludwig makes us a snack?" And then he quickly dragged his weakly protesting brother safely away from Ludwig's intense gaze.

oOo

She was a prisoner. A prisoner in a large, luxurious bedroom, but a prisoner nonetheless. She supposed it could have been worse – she _had_ expected worse, when Count Russo had found her and tried to drag her away against her will. At least the bed was comfortable, and there were some books that she could read to pass the time, and she was treated like a princess. However, she was not allowed outside the room unless there was someone to watch her closely.

The worst part was, she had no idea why she was here.

They kept calling her Caterina. When she tried to protest that she wasn't this Caterina person or just failed to answer to that name, Count Russo told her she was either joking or confused due to some kind of trauma. He sounded so certain that she was Caterina that she could almost start believing that she was indeed Caterina and had just forgotten for some reason.

But there was a portrait in the bedroom, the portrait of a beautiful young woman. There was also a mirror, and she could look into it and then take another look at the portrait for good measure. She and Caterina didn't really have that much in common in terms of appearance. They were both blonde, but the similarities ended there. In fact, even her hair was a different shade. Caterina was much taller, fairer, more voluptuous, so to speak. She had a timid smile and sad, watery eyes, and her face was rounder. Caterina's dresses were also too long for her, making her trip all the time when she tried walking, and it was quite loose in the chest. Her shoes were also a little too big.

She was quite sure she wasn't Caterina. So why did they keep calling her that name and treating her like the Count's daughter?

She sat by the window, her only contact with the outside world. The landscape outside had never looked so bleak. There was so green, no singing birds, no sign of life to comfort her, and she could do nothing but wonder about all the people who would miss her, wonder how long it would take them to realise that she was a prisoner and when they would come to save her.

A light knock brought her out of her thoughts and she dully turned her head to the door, which opened quietly, almost timidly. A young man walked in, his head and left eye bandaged.

"Lady Caterina Russo," he said, with a respectful bow. "Forgive me for disturbing you, but I have orders to check up on you."

He was alone. That caught her attention, because the other servants had always come to her room accompanied by other servants or by Count Russo himself. He was also the only servant so far who hadn't looked at her with surprise or confusion in his eyes. She was sure they hadn't met before, and yet he didn't look at her like a stranger.

"You do know I'm not Caterina, right?" she asked quietly. His expression didn't change at all. Rather, it was very weary.

"Yes, I know. I am sorry that you got dragged into this. I had no idea he was this far gone," he replied, also very quietly. "But for everyone's sake, especially your own, I advise you to humour him and accept your new identity."

"What?" she exclaimed, only slightly louder. "You can't really expect me to pretend I'm another person for the rest of my life!"

"You should be grateful," he told her, his voice lacking any emotion to match his suddenly sharp, cold gaze. "If he had recognised you, you would probably be dead now, or worse. After all, you are close friends with one of his greatest enemies."

Bella narrowed her eyes and clenched her fingers on the folds of her dress. So he knew exactly who she was. This was what she had been afraid of all along. Of course, she had wanted them to realise that she wasn't Caterina, but at the same time, she hadn't wanted them to know who she really was.

"Don't worry, though. I wish you no harm," said the young man, a little grudgingly.

That was a surprise. Bella threw him a curious look. Was he on her side, after all?

"I confess that, like Count Russo, I harbour great resentment, maybe even hatred, towards your friend Lovino Vargas for taking the life of someone I cared deeply for. But I know that you can hardly be blamed for it."

"You cared deeply for Natalia Russo?" said Bella in disbelief. "But she was crazy!"

"She wasn't crazy!" he protested, raising his voice for the first time with unexpected vehemence. "She was lonely! She just wanted to be loved! No one could ever see that! No one, least of all her unfaithful husband. Only I have ever been able to see her other side, her true self." He held out his hands, displaying his fingers, which, if Bella looked closely, seemed to be slightly crooked. He stared at them with distant, wistful eyes and whispered, "I can still remember when she held my hands in hers, as she gently caressed my fingers one by one and showed me her unique way of love and affection, marking my body and my soul forever. I was the only one who could see the gesture for what it really was."

It took a moment for Bella to understand what he meant. When she did, a sick feeling settled in her stomach.

This man had to be as insane as the Russos. And yet, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him. In the end, he was a poor fool in love, just like she had been.

"Your eye..." she whispered. "Was it also...?"

"No," he said, resurfacing from his reverie and resuming his cold expression and tone of voice. "This I owe to the man I hate and pity the most in the world after Lovino Vargas."

Her heart clenched. She didn't know whom he was referring to, and that wasn't really important. Rather, she was too caught up with what he had said about Lovino.

"What are you going to do to Lovino?" she asked, fearful.

"That doesn't matter. After all, you are not his friend. You have nothing to do with him. You are Caterina Russo. You don't have to worry about anything. All you have to do is stay here and never leave Count Russo's side."


	15. Schemers

**A/N:** After a very long hiatus, I'm back with another chapter! I'm really sorry to have kept my readers waiting. (Are any of you still following this fic?) Hopefully, the next chapter won't take nearly as long. Special thanks to **Pretty** **Punch**, **anon**, **foxyaoi123**, **VampireNaomi**, **Lumoa**, **Linda**, **Kenneth22**, and **Sammy-chan** for reviewing! It's been a while since I wrote anything serious, so I hope this chapter won't disappoint.

* * *

– **CHAPTER 15 –**

_**Schemers**_

He was in that dark corridor again, though it was now a little better lit. Antonio was at his side, a warm, reassuring presence in this unsettling place. He could hear whimpers and sobs that quietly echoed through the hallways, seeming to come from where that portrait of Edelstein's late son had been. The one he had broken in a temper tantrum.

"Is Feliciano still crying about that stupid portrait?" he grumbled.

"Oh, no," said Antonio, his voice sad even though a small smile adorned his tanned face. "He's sad because Ludwig left."

"What? He left? B-but why?"

"He was ordered to. Because he couldn't get along with you. Don't you remember?"

That was right. Lovino remembered pretending to be his brother so that he could take his revenge on Ludwig and send him away. He had told Ludwig to leave... and now he had actually left, and his brother was crying as if he were attending his funeral.

"Ludwig... Ludwig... Why did you leave me?"

Lovino felt his heart clench at the pitiful sound. He hadn't given much thought about Feliciano's feelings when he had decided to dismiss Ludwig. He had been sure that Feliciano would get over it. He still thought he would but... how long would it be until he got over it? What would it take? It was hard to be optimistic about it at the moment, because all he knew, right now, was that his brother was absolutely heartbroken. And it was Lovino's fault.

"He was his best friend," said Antonio softly. "Maybe his only real friend in the world."

Indeed, Ludwig was the only one who was willing to put up with Feliciano's antics day and night. Lovino was his brother, but they didn't even get along that well. He got along well enough with Antonio, but they weren't that close. Feliciano's affable personality allowed him many friendly acquaintances, but when it came down to it, he didn't have many close friends, people he could really count on when he needed them the most. Only one, really. And now he was gone. And it was Lovino's fault.

Maybe Lovino had been a little hasty. He had got so obsessed with revenge that he hadn't really stopped to consider what he was doing to his brother. Granted, they didn't always get along, but he had to admit that Feliciano had always cared about him, always treated him with kindness.

"I can't even imagine what he's feeling," continued Antonio. "To lose your best, only friend..."

The guilt weighting in his chest was too much. Lovino tried to think of a way to make it more bearable.

"Yeah, well..." he stammered. "How bad can it be? It's not like he's dead, anyway. Besides, Feliciano is a social butterfly. Everyone loves him. I'm sure it won't be long before he finds a new friend."

"Like you did?"

"I told you, Gilbert isn't my friend." _You are_, he added mentally, unable to voice it. He averted his gaze to the other side, away from Antonio's sight.

"Then who is?" he heard Antonio ask, his voice almost inaudible.

Lovino did not answer.

_You are_, he thought again, but was it true? Antonio had always taken care of him when they were younger, yet now, even though they still lived under the same roof, something had changed. They barely talked to each other any more. Lovino knew he still cared about him – that was why he was avoiding him, so that he wouldn't get caught in the family feud and get hurt – but weren't friends supposed to trust and rely on each other? Why was Lovino more willing to trust his life to a creepy stranger than his childhood friend who had never failed to protect him?

Why did he not only feel more and more distant from him, but also wanted to keep growing more distant from him, even though he still cared about him?

Was he losing his friend, too?

"Antonio..." he whispered, suddenly apprehensive, and turned back to him, only to see he was alone in the dark hallway. "Antonio?"

When had he left?

Lovino hugged himself, suddenly cold. He didn't want to be left alone in this dark place.

He could still hear in the distance Feliciano's mournful sobs...

"Ludwig... Ludwig..."

Lovino tried to follow his brother's voice. At least he wouldn't be alone any more.

He kept following the voice, but somehow, he didn't seem to be getting any closer.

"Ludwig... Ludwig..."

Lovino's heart clenched again. He regretted causing his brother this much pain... and yet, at the same time, he couldn't help but bitterly wonder, _Would you cry like that for me, dear brother, if I were the one who left? Or is Ludwig really more important than I could ever be?_

His foot hit something soft on the ground. Lovino looked down.

Antonio's unseeing eyes stared back at him, surrounded by dark red.

Lovino wanted to scream, but his voice has escaped him. In the distance, he was vaguely aware of his brother's voice still mourning.

"Lovino... Lovino..."

A burly man was suddenly in front of him, holding a knife. Lovino barely had time to register that it was one of Russo's men before the knife cut through the air and right into his heart.

He opened his eyes with a gasp. He was on his back, and a slender man in dark clothes was looming over him, knife in hand, and looking a little startled himself. This time, Lovino's voice didn't fail him and he screamed with all his might. This seemed to startle the stranger even more, but he recovered quickly and tried to thrust the knife into Lovino's chest. More out of instinct and luck than anything else, Lovino caught his assailant's wrist.

Lovino wasn't very strong, though, and he wouldn't have been able to stop the man for longer than a few seconds. Fortunately, that was as long as he needed. The door was kicked open and suddenly the dark man's weight was lifted off Lovino. He was only vaguely aware that Gilbert had just come into his room and was now struggling with the enemy. This, too, only lasted a few seconds, until Gilbert managed to shove the other man away from him, towards the now wide open window. Before the man could charge again, Gilbert took his gun and shot him. The impact of the bullet caused the man to fall backwards and out of the window.

"Take that, you bastard!" he shouted at the fallen man before looking back at Lovino, who was about to faint from shock. "See? I told you I'm an awesome bodyguard," he preened.

"Y-y-you're the lousiest bodyguard ever!" stammered Lovino, shaking like a leaf. "The only reason I'm alive now is that I happened to have a nightmare and woke up right when he was about to kill me! If it were up to you, I'd have a hole in my chest and the killer would be miles away, crowing his success to his master while you snored at my door!"

"Hey, don't blame me!" Gilbert defended himself. "You should have locked your window. It's common sense, dumbass."

"What is going on here?" Ludwig's grave voice cut through the argument. Lovino almost fainted from shock again. Behind Ludwig, Feliciano, Antonio and some servants had also come to see what was going on.

"Oh, it was just a burglar," said Gilbert. "Don't worry, though; I killed the wretch."

"A burglar, here? Oh, Lovino, are you all right?" asked Feliciano, hurrying to his brother's side to fuss over him.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" asked Antonio, following Feliciano's example.

Even though Lovino felt smothered by them, he didn't curse or try to push them away like he normally would. He was just glad to be alive, and relieved that both his brother and Antonio were also all right. He had only had a nightmare. Ludwig was still here, so Feliciano had no reason to cry, and Antonio was very much alive.

"Nah, he's fine," Gilbert answered on Lovino's behalf. "All thanks to me, of course. Good thing I was up and around, or else that burglar could have seriously hurt him to silence him."

"Thank God you were here to protect him, Gilbert," said Feliciano, hugging his brother and looking the picture of relief.

Antonio, on the other hand, was suddenly and strangely quiet.

"Maybe you should sleep with me tonight," Feliciano told Lovino. "I want to make sure you'll be all right. You shouldn't be alone after this."

"Fine, if you insist..." Lovino didn't think it would happen again tonight, but he knew he would still feel better if he weren't alone.

"Shouldn't we do something about the, er, body?" asked Ludwig, peeking out of the window.

"Oh, Ludwig, can't you take care of it?"

Ludwig sighed. "Certainly, Master."

"I'll help you, Ludwig," offered Antonio.

oOo

Ludwig was a little nervous about leaving his naïve master alone with his dodgy brother and Ludwig's even dodgier brother, especially so soon after that _incident_. However, he could not disobey his master's orders, and even if he hadn't been ordered, he knew that no one else would have done anything about the conspicuous body in their garden. These unpleasant tasks always fell on Ludwig's shoulders.

There was also another reason why he needed to leave his master alone, though. This could be his only opportunity to find out what Lovino and Gilbert were up to. Because Ludwig didn't believe for a moment that they weren't hiding anything and that the man who had just broken in was a common thief. Ludwig had known Gilbert for as long as he remembered, had practically been raised by him. And if there was one thing that Ludwig had learnt about Gilbert after all these years, it was that Gilbert was _always_ up to something.

And while Ludwig hadn't known Lovino for nearly as long, he could tell the rule applied to him, as well. From the moment Ludwig had met him, Lovino had always been a trouble magnet. And when Gilbert and Lovino were together, nothing good could possibly come out of it. It was a chaotic, ominous combination, and Ludwig's head ached at the mere thought. They would be the death of him, those two...

He just wished there was another human being on this Earth who could see that. Feliciano was as oblivious and naïve as a little child. Antonio... frankly, Ludwig didn't know what to make of him. Supposedly, Antonio was Lovino's closest friend, as air-headed and happy-go-lucky as Feliciano. And yet Ludwig hadn't seen him hang around Lovino that often, and when he watched Lovino and Gilbert together, he got this unusually dark, closed-off expression. It could just be something inane like jealousy, but Ludwig liked to think that maybe there was hope for him, after all.

When they both went down to investigate the body, Ludwig kept throwing him glances, trying to read his expressions and maybe even communicate wordlessly his own suspicions. However, Antonio never met his gaze, and when they found the body, he just stared at it as if it were a dead cockroach. A mild annoyance and an eyesore, but ultimately boring and trivial.

Ludwig, on the other hand, watched it intently from various angles, checked the man's vital signs to make sure he was dead, searched for any special markings on the man's clothes and skin, objects, etc. There wasn't really anything remarkable about the man, however.

They were soon joined by a loud, overeager young man who called himself Alfredo and claimed to be in the Militia. He had apparently been passing by when he'd heard the gunshot and come to investigate. He said it was his duty to make sure that no citizens would be in danger. Ludwig thought he was just a nosy boy.

"So, at precisely around midnight—"

"Twenty-three past one," Ludwig corrected him.

"What, is it really that late? Oh, shit, Dad's gonna kill me..."

"You should hurry up and go home, then. This is none of your business, anyway."

"Yeah," said Antonio, now looking a little tense for some reason. "It's just a common thief who tried to break in. No need to involve the Militia."

"Nonsense. A true investigator must always get to the bottom of every case for the sake of justice!"

"But—"

"Where was I, again? Oh, right!"

"You were about to go home," said Ludwig.

"No, no, that isn't it! As I was saying, at precisely around one in the morning, there was a gunshot and a man fell from some window thereabouts on the second floor – or maybe the third one – and we still haven't found the culprit or the crime weapon..."

"My brother shot him!" Ludwig snapped, tired of wasting time. "And he was only defending himself and my master's brother! As I said, nothing that concerns you _or_ the Militia!"

"Then why were you investigating the body?" Alfredo asked in a surprising moment of insight. Ludwig sputtered.

"He was just making sure the thief hadn't stolen anything," Antonio provided helpfully.

"Ah-ah-ah," said Alfredo, shaking his finger negatively, with a toothy grin. "You can't fool me. I saw you checking for marks on his skin. Why bother doing that to a dead thief? Did you expect him to be part of some group? Do you think he was sent here by someone? Did he have other, more nefarious purposes?"

Ludwig hesitated. "I—"

"What does 'nefarious' mean?" Antonio wondered out loud, but he was ignored.

"I think so, and I think you think so, too!" concluded Alfredo. Antonio looked completely lost.

"Look, you..." Ludwig hesitated, searching for a non-offensive word. It took his mind a while to find one, "sir, I must ask you to leave. This is the Vargas' property and you are trespassing for no good reason."

"But I still have to investigate—"

"No, you do not," said Ludwig firmly. "You are just a boy who thinks this is a game and who needs to go home right now because it's very late. If you do not leave of your own accord, I will have to remove you."

"Whoa, whoa, is that a threat? You know, I think you're trying to get rid of me..."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" said Ludwig, making sure to put in extra sarcasm so that even this idiotic boy wouldn't be able to miss it. Alas, he missed it.

"You're very suspicious, sir," said Alfredo. "I'm afraid I'll have to take you to the headquarters for interrogation."

"Oh, I'll be glad to accompany you there."

Eager to get rid of this annoyance, Ludwig grabbed the young man and practically carried him out of the Vargas' estate, Antonio trailing after them. He knew that if he simply left the boy at the gate, he would just come back right in, so he actually dragged him all the way to the Militia's headquarters. He wasn't surprised at all when the senior soldiers scolded Alfredo for being a reckless kid with grandiose ideas and apologised profusely to Ludwig and Antonio for the disturbance.

He was surprised, however, when they finally returned and found that the body was gone.

"I guess Gilbert must have taken care of it," said Antonio, scratching his head as if he were a little confused.

"Yes, and that's what worries me," replied Ludwig gravely. Curse that Alfredo kid! "I don't trust him."

Antonio did a double take and gave him a very nervous look. "You don't trust your own brother? What, do you think he's somehow involved in..." he trailed off, unwilling to word whatever idea he had in his head.

"Oh, don't get me wrong; I don't think he would intentionally hurt us," Ludwig hurried to reassure him. "It's just that he has absolutely no common sense and he's always up to something stupid and dangerous. And I don't think he's the only one."

"You're talking about Lovino, aren't you?" Antonio rubbed the back of his head, as if embarrassed on Lovino's behalf. "Lovino doesn't actively seek dangerous situations like Gilbert seems to do, but he always ends up in them somehow. He's a good kid, deep down."

Ludwig grunted. "Well, good kid or not, I think he and my brother are up to something."

"Like what?" asked Antonio, frowning.

"I'm not entirely sure, but... Antonio, you don't really believe that the 'burglar' was really just a burglar, do you?"

"What are you getting at, Ludwig?"

Ludwig was startled by how cold Antonio's voice had suddenly sounded, and he was even more surprised when he turned to look at the man and was met with an icy glare. For a moment, he wildly thought that this was an impostor, because he was too different from the cheerful, friendly Antonio he was used to seeing.

"You think Lovino is up to something?" he continued, his quiet voice chilling Ludwig's blood. "Well, he isn't. Maybe your brother is, but Lovino isn't."

"I didn't mean to say he was up to something intentionally," said Ludwig. Not that it was entirely true, but maybe it would get Antonio to calm down. "Maybe he got dragged into it by my brother or someone else. I'm just saying that he's definitely hiding something and it somehow involves my brother, which means it's definitely dangerous and possibly illicit."

"He isn't," Antonio insisted. "He isn't involved in anything at all."

Ludwig just stared at him for a moment. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because..." Antonio breathed heavily, and suddenly the coldness in his expression and voice melted into desperation, "if he were in trouble, surely he would tell me! That's how it's always been! He gets in trouble, he begs me to help him. Because I'm his friend, his brother, I've known him since he was a little kid and he trusts me completely. Lovino can't handle danger, and he can't handle fear. If he were in danger, he'd be scared, and if he were scared, he would come to me right away!"

There was a moment of silence, broken only by Antonio's panting, which sounded almost like sobs.

"Are you trying to convince me?" Ludwig asked him at length. "Or yourself?"

Antonio gritted his teeth, his breathing sounding even harsher.

"I'm just saying," said Ludwig, lest Antonio was preparing to punch him for his audacity, "maybe Lovino doesn't trust you as much as you think. Or at least not any more."

"Why would he stop trusting me? Nothing has changed between us."

"Are you sure?"

Antonio looked angry at Ludwig's question at first, but his expression faltered slightly for a moment to show what had been lying beneath it – doubt, fear, sadness. He recovered quickly, though, and the confident mask was soon back in place. He snorted, as if Ludwig were an amusing fool.

"Of course I'm sure."

oOo

"Don't let them investigate the body! Do something!" Lovino hissed, glaring at Gilbert from the crack in the door of his brother's bedroom. "If they find any clue that indicates that man worked for the Russos..."

"But what am I supposed to do?" Gilbert whispered back. "If I try to stop them, they'll only get more suspicious!"

"I don't know! _You_ figure out something, dammit!" With that, Lovino shut the door before Gilbert could retort, though not before getting a last glimpse of those red eyes glaring at him from the dark like those of a demon. Lovino shuddered a little and locked the door for good measure.

"Lovino, come to bed already!" Feliciano whined. Lovino gloomily thought that he would have been a lot more eager to comply if those words had been uttered by a beautiful woman.

Nevertheless, he made his way to the bed quickly, only to be enveloped in a warm embrace as soon as he lay down. It was... well, not exactly reassuring, but it did make him feel a little better. At least he wasn't alone. He really didn't want to be alone right now. On the other hand, his fear and anxiety still held an iron grip on his heart. What if another assassin showed up? Then Feliciano would definitely find out and then get hurt, possibly killed as well, and Gilbert was no longer around, and even Ludwig and Antonio wouldn't be able to save them—

"Lovino, your hands are shaking," Feliciano remarked, his hands feeling incredibly warm and soft around Lovino's own.

"Y-yes, well, you'd be shaking, too, if a burglar had broken into your room in the middle of the night. I'm lucky Gilbert happened to be there when it happened, or that thief could've really hurt me!"

"Yeah, you're right... But you shouldn't worry, Lovino. As long as Ludwig is around, we're all safe! Ludwig has never failed to protect me. He's so muscular and strong and intimidating and reliable. When I'm with him, I feel like no danger in the world could possibly fall on me. Because I know he'd never let anything happen to me. And now that you're here, I'm sure the same thing is true for you. Since we're brothers, I mean... Ludwig will protect you, just like he protects me."

"He's scarier than anything!" Lovino protested. "I-I mean, not that I-I'm scared of him, but, you know, if I were scared of anything, he'd be the one I'd be scared of..."

"Well, I also thought he was really scary and mean at first, but once you get to know him, you see he's a really nice guy deep down. Kind of like you!"

"Shut up! I have nothing in common with that bastard, okay?" Lovino snapped, even as his mind treacherously brought up a memory of Ludwig suggesting the same thing, of him actually acting like a decent person with a good heart. That had just been a façade! Ludwig had only been trying to trick him so that he wouldn't be kicked out. "A-anyway, he wouldn't bother to protect me. He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you, Lovino!" said Feliciano, sounding almost scandalized. "He actually wants to get along with you! I know, because he's asked me several questions about you, and he asked me if I knew what he could do to make _you_ stop hating _him_." There was a brief pause, and then Feliciano laughed. "He even told me once he wished there was a book that could give him instructions on how to get along with one's master's big brother. Silly Ludwig, he thinks books can teach you anything and everything you need to know."

"Idiot..." Lovino muttered, trying to dismiss what Feliciano had said about Ludwig.

"Even if Ludwig can't be there for you..." Feliciano continued. "There's still Gilbert, who proved he can protect you tonight, and I'm sure Antonio would die before he let anything happen to you, too. And... and then there's... me..." He snuggled a little closer to his brother. "I know I'm weak, but I'd still try my hardest to protect you... because you're my brother and I love you. A-and that'd make me stronger, I think."

Lovino felt the sting in his eyes again and that painful knot in his throat. Part of him longed to believe those beautiful words. How he wished he could believe he actually had all those people to count on no matter what. So many people willing to keep him safe even though he had never done anything to deserve their sympathy or friendship. He wished it so badly, it hurt. But he knew better. Maybe Feliciano believed what he was saying, but not Lovino. Reality wasn't that fairytale Feliciano was apparently living in. Even Antonio...

Maybe Antonio would...

No. No, no, no, he couldn't let himself finish that thought. He couldn't bring Antonio into any of this. He didn't really care about Gilbert or Ludwig or what they thought of him, but Antonio absolutely had to stay out of it, as did Feliciano.

Oblivious to his brother's turmoil, Feliciano made a contented noise and softly touched his head against Lovino's.

"This is so nostalgic... Remember when we were kids and we used to sleep together like this every night?"

Lovino made a non-committal noise. He had never really been fond of sleeping with his brother. He had only done it because there had been only one bed for them, and Lovino hadn't cared to sleep on the floor – and Feliciano had always made a fuss when Lovino tried to kick him off the bed.

"And sometimes we'd sleep with Grandpa," Feliciano added. "Whenever there was a storm or when we'd just listened to horror stories and got too scared to sleep by ourselves." He giggled. "Remember?"

"What do you mean, 'we'? You're the one who got scared," Lovino retorted, a slight smirk sneaking its way onto his lips.

"Oh, that reminds me..." Feliciano shifted a little so that he could meet his brother's gaze, squinting in the dark. "Grandpa will protect you, too. He's watching over us. Even now, when Ludwig, Gilbert, and Antonio aren't here with us, Grandpa is watching over us, so you don't have to worry. You can rest at ease."

"Hmph. Big load of help he's been so far," Lovino muttered sarcastically.

And yet, despite having been unable to relax until minutes ago, it wasn't long before he finally fell into a peaceful sleep.

oOo

The following morning, Gilbert was nowhere to be found. At breakfast, Lovino tried to gauge everyone's feelings about it. Ludwig's expression was the most difficult to read, seeing as he had no expression to speak of, but he was obviously tense. Lovino took it for suspicion, while Feliciano took it for worry and kept insisting that Gilbert was fine, he had probably just gone out for a stroll around the town or something. However, despite his reassurances, Lovino could tell Feliciano was a little worried himself, maybe entertaining some silly idea that the so-called burglar's friends had come after Gilbert to take revenge. Antonio, oddly enough, seemed to be in a better mood than he had been lately, although he was also a little tense. Hopefully, he was just worried and not getting suspicious like Ludwig. Lovino should have known that it was a terrible idea to leave those two together after such a suspicious incident.

As for Lovino's own feelings about it, he was trying not to panic. Not only were Ludwig and Antonio apparently growing suspicious of him, his bodyguard had mysteriously disappeared soon after an attempt on Lovino's life. This did not bode well. He really hoped Gilbert was merely still trying to dispose of the body, and that he would come back soon. Because if he didn't, Lovino would be forced to stick with Antonio or, even worse, Ludwig all day, and then he might as well confess everything...

He was going to skip rehearsal today, and he was going to lock himself up in his room and barricade the door _and_ the window. And he was going to stay there until Gilbert returned. With all the skill of an experienced pickpocket, he slipped a knife out of sight under the table and wrapped his handkerchief around it. He had left his knives and his gun in his bedroom and forgotten to fetch them when he'd left his brother's room – how stupid of him, really! – so he needed to have some kind of weapon on the way there.

Once breakfast was over and everyone was getting up, Lovino pulled his brother to the side and told him, "Look, uh, I don't feel so good. I think I'm still a little shaken about what happened last night."

"You do look a little pale," responded Feliciano, caressing Lovino's face. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No, no, I just need to sleep some more. I'm just tired, really," he quickly reassured, because he knew that Feliciano would fuss over him if he got worried. "I'm going to my room and I don't want to be disturbed, okay? If Bonnefoy shows up, tell him I'm not going to rehearsal today. And if I'm still in my room by lunchtime, have one of the cute maids bring the food to my room."

Feliciano squinted at his brother, a rare frown on his face. "Hmm, are you sure you aren't just being lazy, Lovino?" He then winced when he got called names and got hit by a light punch or two. "Ow! I'm sorry! I was just joking!"

oOo

With both the door and the window firmly shut, Lovino was left in a dark room with a lit candle in his hand, the small flame flickering feebly as his hand shook. He took a step towards his bed, but a metallic sound made him freeze in his tracks. It took him a moment to realise that the sound had come from below; he had stepped on something. He lowered the candle to see what it was.

A knife.

Oh.

The knife that had been meant to pierce his heart last night.

The assassin must have dropped it at some point during the struggle with Gilbert.

Lovino shuddered, feeling suddenly very cold. That was why he quickly made his way to his bed and, after setting the candle on his bedside table, covered himself in a cocoon of blankets. Only because he was cold, of course, not because he was scared or anything...

Oh, who was he trying to fool? Just look what he'd been reduced to. It was such a nice day outside, and he could have been out there to enjoy the warmth of the sun on his skin and watch the cute ladies go by, maybe even engage them in conversation. But no, here he was, locked up in a dark room, cowering under the blankets as if they could actually shield him from the world, waiting for a gory death.

He reached a still shaky hand out of the cocoon and snatched his rosary from the bedside table. At this point, there was nothing else he could do but pray. God was the only one who could protect him now. Or, if protecting him was out of the question, then maybe he could at least bargain for a swift death?

He closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he found he was unable to concentrate, for he was too worried that another assassin would sneak in somehow and Lovino wouldn't even see him before it was too late. He opened his eyes. After a few more minutes, he decided that praying with his eyes wide open was too weird, and the shadows cast by the candle were playing tricks on him and freaking him out. He closed his eyes again.

He was being stupid. There was no reason to worry. Just because an assassin had come after him last night didn't mean another one would come today, at daytime when so many people were up and about. Besides, he had locked his window and his door; there was no way anyone would be able to sneak in or break the door open. Unless they had an axe and killed everyone on their way here... No, no, he couldn't think like that, he was perfectly safe here and no one was going to try breaking the door open—

A loud bang on the door cut his thoughts short and Lovino felt his heart leap up to his throat then drop right to his stomach. That had only been his imagination, right? No one was actually trying to break the door open, no, no, no...

Another series of bangs and Lovino's hair stood on end. No, definitely not his imagination.

"Wh-who's there?" he ventured asking.

"Mr. Vargas," came a grave, ominous voice. "Please open the door."

Had the scary man on the other side of the door not heard his question, or had he avoided it deliberately? Either way, he was sure he didn't want to open the door for whoever it was.

"Go away!" he yelled.

"Mr. Vargas? Are you in there?"

Only now did Lovino recognise that voice. He huffed, and with the blankets still covering him from head to toe, he got up from the bed and approached the door.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Mr. Vargas, can you please open the door? I don't like feeling like I'm talking to an inanimate object."

Lovino rolled his eyes and was about to open the door to yell at the man in his face like he wanted to, but a sudden thought stopped him.

"Hah, g-good try! You won't make me open the door so easily, you sucker! You'll have to prove who you are first! I won't be fooled just because your voice sounds familiar!"

"Excuse me?"

"You won't get me!"

Feeling more than a little disturbed and maybe a little hysterical by the possibility of being separated from an assassin by a mere wooden door, Lovino hurried back to his bed to fetch the gun under his pillow. He fumbled with it, but his hands shook so hard that he might have had better luck trying to grab water. Before he could get a grip, a metallic sound coming from the keyhole echoed and the door opened. In his hurry to back away, Lovino stumbled back and fell over, his gun flying from his hands while he got tangled in the blankets.

"Er..."

Lovino managed to remove the part of the blanket that had been trying to swallow his head and squinted at the muscular shadow in front of him, his whole face heating up in embarrassment. Well, at least he knew for sure that it wasn't an assassin.

"Is everything all right, Mr. Vargas?" Ludwig asked, casting a suspicious glance around the dark room, his gaze lingering at the gun on the floor. "Is that my gun?" With a resigned sigh, he stepped into the room, picked up the gun to inspect it, and put it away. "Do you need... assistance, Mr. Vargas?"

"No! I'm perfectly fine, dammit!" With some difficulty, Lovino finally came out triumphant from his battle with the blankets and stood up, clinging to the remaining shards of his dignity like a lifeline. "What do you want? I told Feliciano I did not want to be disturbed! How dare you interrupt my sleep!"

"You were sleeping on the floor?"

"S-so what if I was? That's none of your business!"

"Very well, Mr. Vargas. I apologise," said Ludwig, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. "Lord Feliciano ordered me to check up on you and to fetch you in case everything was all right. We have a visitor who wishes to see you."

Lovino tensed up. A visitor who wished to see him? That couldn't possibly be good. He wasn't exactly popular in this city. It had to be either Bonnefoy or someone involved in the Russo-Gianturco family feud. Still, he tried to cover his nervousness with derision.

"Hah, I should have known that Feliciano wouldn't listen to me. I tell him I don't want to be disturbed and the first thing he does is send you of all people to bother me. Assholes, all of you. You can tell our visitor to go fuck himself."

"Are you sure? She was very adamant on seeing you, and you haven't even heard what she has to say."

Lovino hesitated. "She?"

"Miss Magherini. She really wants to see you, for some reason."

Miss Magherini? Elisabetta? That pretty yet weird, aggressive woman who had given him the wine treatment on his birthday and had tried to dictate whom he should be friends with? What could she possibly want from him?

Part of him was afraid this was some kind of trick, but in the end, his curiosity, allied with his inability to say no to a pretty girl, won over his paranoia and he decided he might as well hear her out.

oOo

"Oh, Lovino, there you are! I'm glad to see you're okay, and I'm sorry for disturbing you, but Elisabetta was really adamant on talking to you and..."

Lovino was barely listening to his brother's chattering. Why pay attention to that idiot when there was a beautiful lady who just _couldn't wait_ to see him? Oh, God, was it him, or did Elisabetta look even more gorgeous than usual today? Not to mention more friendly! She had always looked angry or cold before, even when she had been trying to act polite, but this time she looked completely sweet and ladylike.

A part of Lovino couldn't help but wonder if he should be afraid. Surely such unusual behaviour took warning?

That part of him, which normally held supreme reign over Lovino's mind, was swiftly suppressed by that irresistible impulse to be nice to women. Suddenly, all his fears and worries concerning the Russos and Gilbert were far, far away, as if they belonged to someone else, or to a fading dream. He stood up straight, his demeanour confident and gallant, and he greeted the lady politely. He didn't even acknowledge Feliciano when he said he had better leave them alone in a rather suggestive voice – which was really odd coming from such an innocent person.

"So, how can I help you, Miss—"

"Oh, let's drop those silly formalities. It'd feel even weirder after this."

"This... what?" Lovino asked, feeling as if he were missing something.

Before giving him an explanation, Elisabetta inspected all windows and doors, as if to make sure they were really alone. When she finally returned her attention to him, there was a mischievous glint in her eye. As quickly as it had been gone, his anxiety was back full force. Crap, he should have listened to that part of him who had warned him about Elisabetta. No one with that look in their eyes could possibly be up to any good.

"I see Gilbert isn't here today," she remarked in a faux innocent voice.

"Uh..."

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

"No, I have no idea..."

"Good."

And suddenly she was very close, too close, and her eyes scrutinised him from head to toe, like an expert merchant inspecting the goods he's about to trade. And whatever it was that she had in mind, she looked very satisfied with what she saw. Lovino's face burnt; sure, he had had girls look at him appreciatively before, but never quite... like that. Like they had unholy plans for him and were going to enjoy themselves a little too much with that. Lovino was torn between excitement and terror.

"You're perfect," she announced.

Lovino's heart skipped a beat. Now that was something he had never thought anyone would say to him in all sincerity. He couldn't even feel flattered, though, because, somehow, it didn't sound like a compliment. It sounded like another warning.

"P-perfect for what?" he dared ask.

"For my plan!"

Oh, so she finally admitted she had plans. Lovino didn't like the idea the so far. He didn't even want to know what she was planning, but he was locked up here and he doubted Elisabetta would let him get away so easily. He swallowed hard and asked the unavoidable question, "What plan?"

"My plan to get revenge on Gilbert for his lies and slanders!" She snarled. "And to get some recognition in this treacherous city!"

Lovino frowned at the mention of Gilbert. Had he actually done something to offend or shame Elisabetta? The thought was infuriating. That must be why everyone in town avoided her. Once again, Lovino felt his heart swell with sympathy for her. How dare Gilbert hurt such a pretty lady!

"And... what do you want me to do about it?" he asked guardedly. He wanted to help her, of course, but he still couldn't help this nagging feeling that he wasn't going to like her idea.

"I know you and Feliciano can pretend to be each other," she whispered, eyes narrowed in excitement.

"Wh-whatever gave you that idea?" stammered Lovino, suddenly very flustered. Did she know what he had done with Ludwig? Was she going to blackmail him or something?

"I met Feliciano when he was passing off as you the other day. He really fooled me for a while. He even tried to flirt with me." She smiled in fond amusement for a split second. "But I'm very observant, so I eventually saw through his disguise and tricked him into revealing himself."

Lovino said nothing, and tried to keep his expression passive, but inside he was boiling with anger. Feliciano had never told him anything about being found out! And then another thought occurred to him. Oh, God, what if she had seen the suspicious men who had apparently been following Feliciano around? She had just proved herself to be very clever and observant, so if she had seen those men, she would definitely realise something was up...

"And then he told me some really interesting things," Elisabetta went on, seemingly oblivious to Lovino's growing discomfiture. "For example, he told me that you can also pass off as your brother, and that you're even better at it than him."

Damn that blabbermouth! Lovino was going to kill him!

"I could never ask Feliciano to do this, but I think you will agree to help me..." Elisabetta paused, her mischievous smile dropping to give way to a serious, determined expression. "I want you to pose as your brother and pretend we're having an affair."

Lovino was suddenly glad that he hadn't been drinking anything, because he would have sprayed it all over Elisabetta's face just now and things would have gone downhill from there. Surely he had misheard her. It was just the lust talking, faced with such a pretty lady. Yes, he should have paid more attention to what she was actually saying, instead of letting his dirty imagination roam free. He focused on her words as hard as possible.

"We'll make out somewhere where we'll be caught by the maids. They're big gossipers, so I'm sure that almost everyone in town will have got wind of it by the end of the month!"

Lovino stared at her in stunned silence for a moment. Oh, God, she had actually said what he thought she had said, hadn't she? He wasn't just hearing things. He felt his heart beat faster and faster, causing the blood to rush to his face.

"Why would you want that to happen?" he asked, hoping to bring some reason to this bizarre conversation.

Now it was her time to blush and look away in obvious discomfort.

"Everyone says I'm too scary and unladylike to find a lover," she muttered. "I've been engaged three times and something went wrong every time. Some people even call me 'black widow'. It doesn't help that Gilbert always brings the worst in me to make me look like an uncouth barbarian or like a madwoman in front of people. I admit I wasn't very feminine when I was younger, but even now, when I'm trying so hard, no one respects me."

Lovino took a moment to digest her words. "Well, maybe you should try harder, because to be honest, getting drunk, swearing like a sailor and throwing wine at the first well-intentioned guy who comes your way doesn't exactly give you a very good impress—Ouch!" He yelped when she punched him in the arm. Jesus, this woman had some muscle! Lovino rubbed his sore arm, hoping it wouldn't bruise.

"Another smartass comment like that and the next one will be on your nose!" she hissed, shaking her fearsome fist in his face. Lovino swallowed a "case in point" comment and muttered an apology.

"Anyway," she went on, appeased, "if I'm seen with someone – with the head of the Vargas family, no less – people will start seeing me in another light. I presume." She shrugged. "But my main goal is actually Gilbert."

"Why would that affect him?"

"Oh, you might not know this, but Gilbert is secretly crazy about me." She smiled smugly again.

Lovino's eyebrows rose high on his forehead. He had been aware of Elisabetta's engagement with Gilbert in the past, but he had never got the impression that Gilbert actually liked her that much.

"He's in denial, of course," said Elisabetta, as if she had read Lovino's mind. "That's why he picks on me. So that no one will ever know. But as I said, I'm very observant, and I have female intuition on my side as well."

"If you say so..."

"So, when he sees me with another man – with one of his best friends, to boot – he'll get jealous. He'll get so very jealous, he'll try to chase after me, and I might even get him to confess his feelings for me."

"Oh, I see..." Lovino shifted awkwardly. "You have feelings for him, too, huh?"

Elisabetta snorted. "No way! I just want to see him grovel, and then I'll _reject_ him, and humiliate him like he did to me. Nothing would give me more satisfaction."

Having recently been rejected by his love, Lovino couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Gilbert – assuming, of course, that Elisabetta was right and he did have feelings for her. On the other hand, he was still mad at his failure of a bodyguard, and besides, how could he refuse the chance to make out with this ravishing, willing woman? Lovino took only the briefest moment to weigh his options.

Hm, yep, Gilbert could go to hell for all he cared.


	16. Trials

**A/N:** HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN? Long enough to make some people think this story has been discontinued, apparently. I really am very sorry and deeply ashamed for taking so long with this chapter. I'm afraid my inspiration to write anything at all has been dwindling, but I'm not ready to discontinue this fic quite yet. If any of the old readers are still interested in this fic, thank you very much for your patience, and I hope you will continue to enjoy the story.

Also, special thanks to the reviewers - **VampireNaomi**, **Linda**, **Pretty** **Punch**, **SilversShadow13**, **Capricarin**, **Silver** **Anon**, **Hopeful** **Anon**, and **Kelsey** - and to everyone who has faved/added to alert/read this fic!

* * *

– **CHAPTER 16 –**

_**Trials**_

"You want to switch places again?"

"Hush, Feliciano!" Lovino threw a quick glance at the closed door of his brother's bedroom, hoping that no one was eavesdropping or passing by. "This time, I have a specific task for you."

"Oh?" Curious, Feliciano leant forwards so that he could whisper, "What kind of task?"

"I want to test Antonio."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to know if he could be fooled by you." Lovino smirked. "He's known me since I was a little kid, so one would think he'd be able to tell us apart. On the other hand, he's an idiot, so he just might completely miss the differences between us. I want to know which one is stronger in him – his friendship with me or his denseness."

"Okay, sounds fun," Feliciano acquiesced, with a tentative smile that was short-lived. He seemed to think about something for a moment. "Say, were you with Ludwig when we switched places the other day?"

Lovino hesitated, wary. Had Ludwig talked to Feliciano about that conversation? He had been counting on Ludwig's penchant for reticence and ineptness in dealing with personal or emotional situations, but maybe the brawny idiot had actually decided to open up to his master for once.

"Yes," he admitted, voice cautious.

"And... was he able to tell it wasn't really me?" Feliciano asked timidly, fidgeting like a little child.

This time, there was no hesitation on Lovino's part, and he was quick to respond, "No, he wasn't. He never even suspected a thing." In reality, Lovino wasn't certain that Ludwig had never suspected anything, but he was feeling spiteful and this was the perfect opportunity to show Feliciano that his manservant was no saint. "I guess I'm a really good actor, or maybe Ludwig"—he pronounced the name slowly, mockingly—"doesn't really know you that well. Hopefully, Antonio will turn out to be a little better than him."

Red tinted Feliciano's pale cheeks and for a moment he looked like he was going to tear up, but for once he managed to hold back his oncoming tears with a few quick blinks, though not without a soft sniffle, and he even got a little smile on his face. "Yeah, I hope so."

Lovino felt a little disconcerted at this, remembering his dream. His brother was obviously hurt, and it was Lovino's... No, no, it wasn't his fault. He had only answered a question honestly. Ludwig hadn't realised the truth, or else he would have definitely called Lovino on it. Ludwig was the only one at fault here. He was the blind, oblivious idiot who couldn't tell his master from his brother, despite the numerous differences between them. In fact, Lovino had just done his brother a favour. If Feliciano realised that Ludwig wasn't fit to be his friend, he would stop clinging to him once and for all and find someone better. Lovino was really saving his naïve brother from that brute!

With the nagging guilt now out of the way, Lovino addressed Feliciano again. "And no cheating! You must absolutely do your best to imitate me!"

"Of course, Lovino!" Feliciano reassured him.

"And keep close to Antonio, no matter what! Do not get away from him under any circumstance! And if you see those creepy men again, come back right away, as quickly as possible."

"Okay! Don't worry!" Feliciano paused. "By the way, what are you going to do in the meantime?"

"Oh, I'm still feeling a little tired," said Lovino, in a casual tone. "I'll just take a siesta or lounge in your art room while you're gone, don't worry."

And so they swapped clothes and parted their hair accordingly. Lovino waited until Feliciano left before going to talk to Ludwig, once again making a perfect imitation of his brother's squinting, smiley look and skipping gait.

"Oh Luuudwiiig!" he called out in a high-pitched, singsong tone. He found the man in one of the sitting rooms, mercilessly nitpicking at the maids' cleaning work.

"Yes, Master, what can I do for you?" he replied in that grave voice of his.

Lovino suppressed the shudders that voice sent down his spine and giggled. "Oh, you silly, I've told you a million times to call me Feliciano," he said, merely to keep himself as in-character as possible. "Anyway, I have a little favour to ask of you!"

"Anything, Master."

"You see, I'm feeling very inspired! I want to paint something!" Lovino made some wild, expansive gestures, which he knew confused and annoyed Ludwig.

"Very well...?"

"But I need reference! And I need it right in front of me to keep my inspiration alive!"

"I understand, sir. What do you need me to fetch you, exactly?"

"Ten peaches!"

Ludwig's narrow eyes widened just a little bit in surprise. "Ten... peaches?"

"Ten perfect, spotless peaches," affirmed Lovino, nodding resolutely.

"But... My Lord, how am I supposed to find ten perfect peaches at this time of the year?"

"I'm sure you can do it if you try." And then, because Ludwig was so efficient that he really might be able to accomplish such a feat after all, Lovino hurriedly added the first thing that came to his mind, "And a nightingale!"

"What?"

"A nightingale. A female nightingale. And ten perfect, spotless peaches." Lovino was beginning to sweat a little. "Please, Ludwig, you need to find them and bring them to me as quickly as possible, or else I won't be able to paint and I'll lose all my inspiration, and I'll never be able to smile again, and... and..." He lowered his head and sniffled pitifully.

"All right, all right, I will do as you wish, My Lord!" said a very flustered Ludwig. "Don't... don't cry! I promise I will be as quick as I can!"

"You can do it, Ludwig! I believe in you!" Lovino shouted dramatically as Ludwig rushed out of the room.

The maids exchanged amused glances, but seemed to shrug the whole thing off. Feliciano had always been quite the eccentric character. Lovino himself had to hold back a chuckle as he wiped his crocodile tears and made his way upstairs, where his accomplice was lurking and waiting for him.

"How did it go?" Elisabetta asked him in a whisper.

"Perfect. They're all gone. Only the maids are left."

"Good job, Lovino!" She grinned and thumped him in the arm, a rather masculine gesture that took him aback briefly. "Now, are you sure the maids are still coming up to clean the bedrooms?"

"I'm sure. I don't know if they still have to clean Feliciano's room, but they'll definitely come to clean mine. I was there all morning. Even if no one walks in on us right away, someone will definitely overhear us and come to take a look..."

Elisabetta nodded in approval. "Okay, let's go, then."

Lovino felt his heart pound in excitement. He could barely believe this was happening. He leant forwards and lifted his hands.

"Before we get started," she said, making him freeze, and held him by the shoulders as if to keep him still, "There are some rules you have to keep in mind. One, don't touch me under the waist. Two, don't touch me in the breasts. Three, don't look at my cleavage. Four, don't try to take off my clothes. If you break any of these rules, I'm going to amputate your hands, and then I'll castrate you and force-feed you your own dick. Do you understand?"

Lovino was still frozen like a statue, except for his eyes, which had widened considerably.

"Um... um... o-okay..."

And before he could attempt to say anything else or even have second thoughts about this plan, Elisabetta was all over him, her moist lips on his, her hands travelling his body. Her breath came in increasingly harsh pants, and soon he was following her example, with the only exception being that his hands were carefully placed in safe areas and there they chastely stayed.

She stepped back towards the door behind her, pulling Lovino along, and she made a point of making noise when she pushed the door open and then kicked it back so that it was half-closed again. She pulled back from the kiss for the first time, took a quick breather, and dragged Lovino to the bed.

Feeling a little dizzy, Lovino suddenly found himself crouching on top of a panting, sweaty, red-faced Elisabetta while she worked on unbuttoning his clothes and making a mess of his hair and her own. He held still, a little uncertain. It felt so odd to be on his brother's bed with a woman, and he couldn't even touch her the way one normally would in this kind of situation. What exactly was he supposed to do now?

"Just kiss me!" Elisabetta said, as if she had read his mind. "Make some noise! Pant, moan, gasp, say sweet and dirty things to me, make it look like we're about to have passionate, mind-blowing sex!"

Suddenly, Lovino's body seemed to move of its own accord, and he didn't even have to force himself to do most of those things Elisabetta had asked of him. If not for her threats still very present in his mind, bringing him less than pleasant memories of Natalia on their honeymoon, he might have lost himself completely in the heat of passion.

It wasn't long before they were interrupted by a soft gasp from the door. Elisabetta smiled, her eyes twinkling at the ceiling.

"We've been found!" she said gleefully.

Lovino was uncertain again. "What now?"

"Let's keep it up. She barely saw us. Maybe we can get more witnesses. I want them to see us."

So they kept going for a while. Eventually, Lovino began to feel a little frustrated. Sure, it was very enjoyable to be on top of a beautiful woman in bed and kiss her while she made the most delightful noises, but he wanted to go beyond. He could barely touch or look at her! It felt like they weren't going anywhere, like they were stuck in some sort of cycle... God, if they didn't get past this in a minute, he was going to go crazy and—

"Feliciano's brother, are you—" came a loud, raspy voice accompanied by a loud bang that made Lovino jump a little. "Whoa!"

He looked in the direction of the door and saw Gilbert standing there, for once gawking like a complete idiot, his eyes full of uncertainty and disbelief. A moment later, Gilbert frowned and blinked. "Feliciano's... brother...?"

Elisabetta nudged him, urging him to respond, but Lovino was still too shocked by Gilbert's unexpected and abrupt arrival. She then resorted to more drastic measures and grabbed... him in her hand. One could say it had the effect of a bucket of cold water, but only in the sense that it woke him up. It wasn't fair; why could she touch him when he couldn't touch her?

"Oh, h-hi, Gilbert!" he gasped in his brother's high-pitched voice – given the circumstances, it was even less of an effort than usual. "Sorry, I'm a little... busy right now, but if you..." He paused to take a deep, shaky breath, struggling to keep a cute smile on. "If you're looking for my brother... he left a while ago..." He bit back a moan and closed his eyes. He was mortified and wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole, and yet, at the same time, he felt like he was one step away from heaven.

If possible, Gilbert paled even more, and his red eyes were impossibly wide. He backed away, looking as if he were in a daze. "Right... I gotta go... Sorry for, um, interrupting..."

Lovino sighed in relief when Gilbert finally left, and he turned to look at Elisabetta again, hoping they could go on with what they had been doing. However, what he met was a sadistically gleeful Elisabetta, just barely holding back a laughter.

"Perfect, just perfect," she whispered breathlessly to herself, her eyes glinting maniacally at the door. "It went much better than I hoped for!" With this, she shoved Lovino off her, jumped off the bed, and hurried out of the room without another word to Lovino, who was still feeling very hot and bothered.

She wasn't coming back, was she?

"Fuuuuck..." Lovino moaned and collapsed on the bed.

oOo

Antonio had always been the eternal optimist, and although he was aware of Lovino's faults, he had always been confident that he could trust him. Well, okay, he didn't trust Lovino to give him a gratuitous pat on the back and not surreptitiously relieve him of his pocket money in the process, nor did he trust Lovino anywhere near anything breakable. But he knew that Lovino was a good person deep down and could be trusted when it came down to it. He was a good friend.

However, he couldn't deny that Lovino was no saint, or that he had indeed been acting a little... odd. He was more high-strung than usual and seemed to be avoiding Antonio, not to mention spending too much time locked up in his house or in his room. Back when they had lived in Monterosso, they would be together almost the entire time, and Lovino would go outside at every chance he got, even if he had to break some rules. He had always been more of an outdoors kind of person who enjoyed the feeling of the sun on his skin, the fresh wind blowing on his hair, and the admiring, less-than-chaste gazes of young women on his person. He claimed that spending too much time inside made him look pale and sickly, not to mention it bored him to death.

Was it the change in scenery? Was he feeling ill at ease because this city was so much larger and chaotic than Monterosso? Or was he really in some kind of trouble, like Ludwig had suggested? Whatever his problem was, why wouldn't he talk to Antonio about it? Lovino had never had any qualms about telling Antonio at length about every single thing that bothered him, no matter how petty or inconsequential. Why would it be any different now?

"Um... say, Lovino," he ventured, hoping that with some coaching, he would eventually be able to get his friend to open up.

Lovino had apparently been distracted with something, for he quickly turned his head and his eyes widened for a split second, as if he were startled. Then he squinted his eyes – was the sunlight bothering him? – and averted his gaze again, with a grunt. Antonio had known Lovino long enough to recognize that as a sign he was listening.

"You're not still mad about what happened, right?" Antonio asked, attempting to smile.

Lovino hesitated.

"I'm... not sure what you're talking about," he gruffly admitted. Then, almost like an afterthought, he added, "Dammit."

"Well, I'm not entirely sure, myself." Antonio laughed. "But I was wondering if maybe what happened back in Pontebianco was still bothering you? You know, that... fight?" Antonio cringed a little at having to say it out loud. He was so stupid; maybe Lovino had already forgotten about it and now Antonio had just gone and reminded him!

Lovino looked slightly nervous. After another brief moment of hesitation, still avoiding Antonio's gaze, he responded, "Uh, no, that's stupid. Fucking stupid, I mean. Just forget about it. Dammit."

"So, you're not mad about that?" Antonio breathed a small sigh of relief, but he knew it was too soon to feel reassured. "Are you mad, though? About something else? I know I'm stupid sometimes and I say things that get you mad without even realizing it, but..."

"Uh, no, I'm, uh, already used to your stupidity," replied Lovino.

"Oh! So, you're not mad at all! That's great..." Antonio laughed weakly, but then reminded himself that even if he wasn't in trouble, himself, Lovino might still be. He sobered up and leant a little closer to Lovino, putting a warm hand over his friend's shoulder. "So, we're friends, right? You know you can count on me. I know I'm not too bright, but I know how to... say, keep a secret. And how to forgive a friend's mistake. N-not that I'm saying you've done anything wrong!" he hurried to add. "But, you know, no matter what kind of trouble you get into, I'll always stay on your side and... do my best to help you... And I'm sure your brother would, too."

"Hmm," was the non-committal reply. Lovino looked a little worried; his shoulder had got progressively tense during Antonio's speech. Rather than remove his hand, Antonio only squeezed his shoulder, in a supportive way.

"You haven't got into trouble, have you? Please, just tell me. I won't... I swear I won't judge you for it, whatever it may be. You can count on me. Please... just tell me... if you really trust me..."

"Antonio..." Lovino whispered. Antonio thought he could see tears budding at the corner of his eye. He looked touched by Antonio's words. "Th-thanks, but... I'm not in any trouble."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Lovino even smiled a little, and it didn't even look as awkward as usual. "If I were in trouble, you'd be the first I'd tell, Antonio. I've always known that. I mean... shit!" he burst out and punched Antonio on the side, not painfully. Antonio knew this was just a weak attempt at distracting him from Lovino's embarrassed face. "We've always been there for me, even when my brother wasn't... It's only natural... dammit."

Now it was Antonio's time to feel the sting of touched tears in his eyes. He had never expected Lovino to be this honest with him, especially not after so little prodding. Suddenly, he felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he could see the world more clearly, with brighter colours. Even Lovino looked lighter, though it could very well be just the effect of the sunlight on him, the way his hair reflected it.

Except... now that he was taking a good look at Lovino for the first time during this whole conversation, there seemed to be something... off about him. Antonio couldn't put his finger on it, but Lovino looked... _wrong_. Maybe if he had observed him for a while longer, he would have figured it out. However, before he could even give it further thought, a smooth voice, as laid-back as its owner, cut in to greet them:

"Well, well, if it isn't my little star and his knight in shining armour."

"Francis?" yelped Lovino.

Francis arched an eyebrow suggestively. "I do believe this is the first time you've called me by my first name. Should I take it a sign of your desire for more intimacy? Because I wouldn't be adverse to the idea at all..."

Antonio didn't really understand what Francis had just said – he seldom did, really – but Lovino blushed, looking confused for a moment, before he muttered, "Shut up, bastard. What are you doing here, anyway?"

Up went that eyebrow again, though this time it denoted a hint of confusion. "I work here." Indeed, now that it had been brought to his attention, Antonio realised they were in front of the opera house. "The better question is, what are _you_ doing here? I can only assume that you weren't serious about quitting, after all. But that was to be expected. I knew you could not bear to stay away from me for long and would come back to my sweet embrace sooner or later."

"Quit?" Antonio blinked and turned his gaze on Lovino. "Were you going to quit singing, Lovino?"

"Quit?" Lovino echoed, mirroring Antonio's expression. "Of course not! He—I can't quit! This is my true calling!"

"Antonio, even I have already learnt that our dear Mr. Vargas spits fire, but he's really a little lamb deep down, scared and unsure of himself," said Francis. Antonio waited for the carnage to commence, but to his great surprise, Lovino did not react at all. "He just needed some time to recover his self-esteem, I'm sure. So, now that you have come back, why don't we resume our rehearsal?"

"You mean you want me to sing? Right now?" asked Lovino, looking quite pale.

"Yes, of course."

"Um... I can't!"

"Why not? You're already here, anyway."

"Yeah, Lovino, and you just said you're not going to quit."

"I..." Lovino fidgeted. "My throat... is... sore... yeah... I can't sing right now."

Antonio hummed in sympathy. No wonder Lovino looked paler and more subdued than usual, if he wasn't feeling well. Francis, however, clucked his tongue impatiently.

"I told you to be careful! Very well, you can have another day off, but please get some rest! You must recover as quickly possible."

While Francis went on and on with his lecture, Antonio's attention was briefly caught by something else. Or rather, someone else. He thought he had seen a familiar face among the busy crowd in the street, but it was only for a moment. A woman's face... He hadn't even been able to see it very well, for she had been wearing a hood that cast shadows on most of her face, but still... Had he met her before, or was it just his imagination?

Well, maybe he had seen her around in the city before. It didn't matter, anyway. He had to take Lovino home now.

However, for the next hours, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something important.

oOo

The day before had definitely been one of the most frustrating in his life, and that was saying something. He had even gone to bed earlier than usual, hoping that it would end faster and be forgotten by morning. How could Elisabetta abandon him like that? Not to mention that Gilbert had chosen the worst possible time to come back and caught them in that compromising position.

And then, because things could always get worse, Feliciano had come home to lecture him for even thinking about quitting his singing career before it even started. Then he had had to explain why Ludwig had deemed it necessary to bring him ten peaches and a nightingale. That bastard. He had actually done it. He had actually managed to get the ten perfect peaches and the female nightingale, defying the very laws of Nature. How could anyone be such a resourceful, reliable bastard?

Although he had gone to bed earlier, he had been unable to fall asleep. All the frustration, the embarrassment, and above all, the massive headache resultant from that awful day plagued his mind and left him restless. It was certainly past midnight when sleep finally came to him. Of course, even his sleep wasn't very restful. He had some strange dream in which a nightingale with Ludwig's face and Gilbert's voice kept throwing peaches at him and Elisabetta while they were trying to get cosy in bed. God, it was just so horrible. But it didn't last long, for he found himself being shaken awake by someone in the wee hours of the night.

That someone happened to be Gilbert. This did not reassure Lovino in any way. In fact, he felt very justified in screaming. Or trying to, since Gilbert was muffling his mouth with potato-smelling hands and just about smothering him in the process.

"Be quiet!" said Gilbert in his raspy whisper. He didn't seem to have his usual tongue-in-cheek attitude, but looked about as cranky as Lovino felt. "We can't make any noise."

"Where the hell have you been?" Lovino whispered back, as loud as a whisper could be. "You were gone all day yesterday! You were supposed to protect me, not ruin my life!"

"Yes, well, I needed to report the murder attempt to Il Sadico," replied Gilbert, his frightfully pale making him look like a ghost in the feeble candlelight. "I didn't think it'd take so long."

"And couldn't you wait until morning to tell me that? I'm trying to sleep here!"

"Sorry, brother dearest," said Gilbert, unusually grave. "But we have work to do. Il Sadico told me you have to work for him until you can pay your debt, so you're coming with me."

"What? Right now? But it's the middle of the night!"

"That's exactly why we have to do it now. The sun will rise soon. We have to hurry. Come on, get dressed, and be quiet!"

oOo

He was shivering in the cold early morning air. Because he was cold, of course. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that it was dark and some annoying owl kept hooting creepily. Nor had it any relation to the two shady men that he and Gilbert had met up with in a dark alley. None of them bothered with introductions or other pleasantries. Rather, they all looked as if they dearly wished to be somewhere else. Lovino took a little comfort in that; at least he wasn't the only one who felt that way.

"We have to dispose of this," said one of strangers, indicating a large bag that he and his partner were carrying, with some difficulty.

"Do we really have to? Can't we just make it look like an accident or suicide?" grumbled Gilbert.

"Afraid not... What kind of accident would cause this?" said the other man, opening the bag to allow Gilbert and Lovino to take a look.

"Oh, my God!" Lovino gasped, horrified at the tortured, mutilated body inside the bag. Bile rose in his throat and he felt as if his blood were draining from his body, leaving him cold and dizzy. The horrible sight faded to black.

A blissful moment passed.

A hand was slapping his face, dragging him from the wonderful depths of unconsciousness. A raspy voice kept muttering at him to wake up, that they didn't have time for this sissiness.

"Ugh, what happened?" Lovino asked, struggling to articulate his words.

"You fainted like a girl," answered Gilbert. "Now get up. You can sleep later."

Feeling like he was about to throw up any minute, Lovino struggled to his feet and helped the other men carry the bag across the city. He had no idea what they were doing and he decided he didn't want to know. He just prayed that this horrible night would end soon, or even better, that he would wake up in his brother's bed, next to Elisabetta, because that was how things should have gone that day.

So hazy was his mind, so unfocused on his task and surroundings, that next thing he knew, he and the other three men were throwing the bag into the river that crossed the city. He blinked down at the river, with its rapid current, and wondered if this was a good time and place to relieve the sick feeling in his stomach. Then, he decided he would rather not humiliate himself further in front of Gilbert and those other men.

As if reading his mind and being thoughtful, the three of them left his side. Of course, Lovino knew better than to think this was anything in his favour, but before he could figure out what was going on, an exclamation from the opposite direction startled him.

"Hey, you there! Halt!"

Naturally, Lovino had no intention of staying where he was, and his instincts finally kicked in to make him run after Gilbert and the others. But he never had the chance to follow his instincts, because a fraction of second later his arm was caught in the unrelenting grip of two very strong hands. Lovino just screamed.

"Hey, what were you doing here? You look very suspicious!" said the person who had grabbed him. It was a young man, with blond hair and blue eyes.

"Who are you? Where am I? What's going on here?" Lovino shrieked, and all of these questions were honest, because he really had no idea what district this was or what was happening. Where _was_ Gilbert? He was supposed to protect him!

"Don't play innocent! I saw you and your cohorts being all suspicious! You can't fool me! Do you know who I am? I'm Alfredo, the great hero of this town! And I'm going to take you straight to the headquarters for an interrogation!"

"Please, sir," Lovino begged, now shaking like a leaf, "I really don't know anything! Y-you see, I... I sleepwalk sometimes, and..."

For once, his day was saved from getting any worse when a shadow came up behind this Alfredo guy and hit him in the head, knocking him unconscious. Lovino took a minute to recover from the fright and stare down at the young man's lifeless body before he turned to glare daggers at a smug Gilbert.

"You idiot! What took you so long?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Not my fault you were too stupid to run when someone was approaching. I thought for sure you'd be right behind me."

Lovino would have loved to yell till he was blue in the face, but he was just so exhausted, both physically and mentally, that all he wanted to do was crawl under a rock and sleep there forever. He even went with Gilbert's idea to force-feed the unconscious Alfredo some rum and leave him at the curb hugging the half-empty bottle of said drink. That way, Alfredo and everyone else would assume he had just had a little too much to drink and would never suspect either Gilbert or Lovino had anything to do with his condition.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" said Gilbert on the way home. He seemed very pleased with himself.

"This was a complete nightmare!" contradicted Lovino. "I can't believe I've been dragged into this whole mess..."

"Hey, you shouldn't complain. You got the easiest part. I mean, at least you didn't have to do any of the dirty work, if you know what I mean. You're very lucky."

"Very lucky, my ass," Lovino snapped, but the energy to keep the argument up was really failing him. He was certain of one thing, though. If this was the kind of work he would have to do for Il Sadico in order to pay his debt, then he would absolutely have to come up with another way to get money and get this hell over with as soon as possible. Even if that meant he'd have to start stealing again.


End file.
